Spotlite - Mathematics, Method Man, Cappadonna

Come on!

Yeah… yeah.

Yo, yo

Wu-Tang, we always in the Spot Lite

Get paper, every night is hot night

We stay tight, we just livin' our life

We just livin' our life

I drink till I’m drunk, smoke skunk with my stinkin ass, smell the funk

Eekin out the pours, cum stain, shitty drawers

Pissin' down ya elevators shaft, no class, writin graf' on ya walls

It be us, fuck ya law, nigga, my cause is «because»

No yin to my yang, it’s a black thing

Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains

Took the crack game applied it to the rap game, y’all

Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?

Get down with the syndrome: retarded

I think it was them swordsmen, place ya chess pieces on the boards and

Take it to square, this ain’t no Yacub affair

Or a New World Disorder, got us, fuckin the coal miner’s daughter

That y’all, but not us

Fly back, flag a cab and say «check ya»

Next time you see me, say peace and I’ll respect ya, Tical

Yo, lights, cameras, don’t forget the action

The needle skip, but the turntable scratchin'

Chain blow, bangles, heavy on the cashin'

Same old, Range rove', rainbow Manhattan

Craftmen, captive, still I’m avalanchin'

Holy war, handsome, break 'em off harassin'

Latest fashion, passion, bullets reign gashin'

Flippin' through frenzy, the same Wu-Tang

The Hollywood frame, purple haze stain

Rules of dame, fools, choose to bang

Nigga, you lose, Wu, bruise the game

A few men came, that really held weight

Drop, Chinese bars, stars in fifty-two states

Like, bats out of hell, we crash the gates

Without a base, left the gun powder case

Ladies chase, the hip-hop Babyface

Word up, throw your hands in the air, like you just don’t care

Wu-Tang in your atmosphere, everybody say «Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah»

Mic Capone, it’s best to avoid my strike zone

I zone and swing a sword that’ll slice stone

Nice clone, but you could never match the born master

Who tore back half the world, and still saught after by

Dick ridin' niggas, and chicks who do ditto

Singin' like the Four Tops, providin' info

See me low, through the Jeep window, the chrome spins slow

Gene-ral on the J.O., survival M. O

For now get wild, similar to Ol' Dirty

A third time felon just hit with over thirty

Note worthy style, have them so thirsty

First degree heat, you quittin' on me

Cold turkey, no mercy

Wu-Tang, put you in the Cobra Clutch, til you give up

Ya’ll can live up to, Witty Unpredictable

Street mentality, return of the cavalry

36 Chambers, we off key block

Black on the block, tell ya D.J.'s to quit

M.C.'s, to stop that bullshit

Me, Ghost and Rae, we known to pull shit

Step with the brick, on some Ice Water shit

Wallo’s in all colors (now) let’s get chips, like

Robbin' the bank, pull up with the new whips

Don’t get mad, respect rank

No matter how you gettin' dough, give thanks

Everybody hold up your shanks