Lyrics Rules - Wu-Tang Clan
All
you
hoes,
be
cryin'
for
these
bitches
All
you
niggaz,
be
cryin'
for
these
hoes
Both
hands
clusty,
pullin'
out
gats
Double
barreled,
blew
off
the
burner
kinda
dusty
We
back
don't
test,
bring
it
to
'em
proper,
potnah
Comin'
from
the
thirty-six
chamber
Math,
let
the
plate
spin
Many
brothers
y'all
be
sparkin'
Stray
shots,
all
on
the
block
that
stays
hot
If
ya
fuck
with
Wu,
we
gots
ta
fuck
witchu
Who
the
fuck
knocked
our
buildings
down?
Who
the
man
behind
the
World
Trade
massacres
Step
up
now
Where
the
four
planes
at
huh
is
you
insane
bitch?
Fly
that
shit
over
my
hood
and
get
blown
to
bits
No
disrespect,
that's
where
I
rest
my
head
I
understand
you
gotta
rest
yours
true
Nigga
my
people's
dead
America,
together
we
stand,
divided
we
fall
Mr.
Bush
sit
down,
I'm
in
charge
of
the
war
Yes
yes
y'all,
the
INS
bless
y'all
Stop
hearts
like
cholesterol,
let's
brawl
Never
fall,
tear
it
down
like
a
wreckin'
ball
Role
call
where
my
niggaz
that's
one
for
all
And
all
for
one,
we
draw
the
guns
on
impulse
Cash
in
the
envelope,
spend
it
on
kinfolk
Then
smoke
a
ounce
as
we
count
mills
Providin'
you
pure
ecstasy
without
pills
Y'all
know
the
rules,
we
don't
fuck
with
fools
man
How
the
fuck
did
we
get
so
cool
man?
Never
ever
disrespect
my
crew
If
ya
fuck
with
Wu
we
gots
ta
fuck
witchu
Y'all
dogs
better
guard
ya
grills,
it's
all
real
We
live
from
it,
it's
the
God
I-Reelz
Yo'
wonderful,
spark
the
blillz
Let
me
build
with
the
people
for
the
mills
I'm
rollin'
with
the
Rebel
I-Ill
from
Killa
Hill
Peace
to
Brownsville
Brothers
that'll
kill
for
the
will
of
the
righteous
Twenty-five
to
lifers,
true
and
livin'
snipers
You
wait
like
"Sixth
Sense"
'til
hard
to
kill
How
you
livin'
Street
Life?
I'm
surrounded
by
criminals
Serial
killers
tote
guns
without
the
serial
High-tech,
street
intellect,
all
digital
Project
original,
sheisty
individual
New
York's
bravest,
always
supply
you
with
the
latest
We
hall
of
famers,
and
still
hit
you
with
the
greatest
Took
a
year
hiatus,
now
you
wanna
hate
us
Y'all
know
the
rules,
we
don't
fuck
with
fools
man
How
the
fuck
did
we
get
so
cool
man?
Never
ever
disrespect
my
crew
If
ya
fuck
with
Wu
we
gots
ta
fuck
witchu
Sendin'
letters
to
China,
my
cousin
in
Wendy's
on
Viacom
At
home,
it's
worth
money,
I
adorns
Order
drinks,
all
real
niggaz
order
your
minks
yo
We
got
the
fit
teds
on,
lookin'
all
fink
Daddy
everybody
get
money
from
now
on
Payday
flash
Visas
livin'
like,
Easter
e'ryday
Don't
fuck
Benz,
rather
a
430
That
shit
that
float
through
water,
eyeball
come
up
Drop
birdies
yo
We
can
eat
right,
or
we
can
clap
these
toys
I'm
with
Street
Life,
ain't
never
been
a
Backstreet
Boy
Who
y'all
kiddin'
tryin'
to
act
like
my
shoe
fittin'
Confused
with
ya
head
up
yo'
ass
like
who's
shittin'
It's
Hot
Nixon,
same
team
same
position
Battin'
average
three-five-seven
and
still
hittin'
Y'all
still
bitchin',
still
lame
and
still
chicken
I'm
still
here,
one
leg
missin'
and
still
kickin'
'Cause
I'm
hard,
hard
like
a
criminal
Love
like
a
tennis
shoe,
throw
slug
to
finish
you
It's
the
Method
Man,
for
short
Mr.
Meth
I
can
tell
this
motherfucker
ain't
Wu,
look
at
his
neck
Comin'
from
the
thirty-six
chamber
Bring
it
to
'em
proper,
potnah
It's
Wu-Tang,
rushin'
yo'
gang,
crushin'
the
game
Pretty
thugs,
clutchin'
they
chain,
hand
cuppin'
they
thang
Who
gets
strange,
gassed
up
playin'
with
flames
Let
a
nigga
take
off
his
shades,
see
what
I'm
sayin'
is
Y'all
know
the
rules,
we
don't
fuck
with
fools
man
How
the
fuck
did
we
get
so
cool
man?
Never
ever
disrespect
my
crew
If
ya
fuck
with
Wu
we
gots
ta
fuck
witchu
Nigga
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