Rushing Elephants Lyrics - Wu-tang Clan

Yo, yo, yo, what up kid? Yo, these niggaz is back, son 

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) I'm telling you, spit that, done it nigga 

Yeah... yeah... yeah, yeah, I seen it like a Zenith, man 

You hear me man? Word up, man, ya'll know what it is 

It's on again, man, for real, Top Gun, what what 

Aiyo, we came through thumping like elephants 

The new Range is super-charged, I remains intelligent 

Back to the formula, lord, hard grammar 

This is God school, make sure the lobby ain't jammed up 

Excalibur swords, T-Rexes, bibles of rhymes 

We in the lunchroom, weed and veggies for breakfast 

Polo campus, sicker lances, the crisp 

Hundred dollar kick niggas, that be showing you hand steps 

Back to the dormatory, where niggas 

Broke my forearm and index finger, now you write glory 

True holding my flag, it's all engraved in my blade 

So when I wave it, you gon' say Rae mad 

Now it's 28 Days Later, now Wu's up, do something, you can't 

It's blood in my eye, I might get amped 

To rip something down, the billboard holders is back 

So when you see me, you gon' say he gets down 

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From darkness to DNA, I move with my brother 

And we resonate, energy that shifts in colors 

Bringing MC's punishment, then I'm done with it 

The meter leave way on the fast break, I run with it 

It was not a hobby, but a childhood passion 

That had started in the lobby and was quicky fashioned 

Every line to line, bar for bar is clockwork 

Hazardous and powerful enough to have your block hurt 

Check the total amount of MC's inflicted 

With torture, from moving with work that's restricted 

We criticize producers til they joints are right 

Then acupuncture the track with pinpoints of light 

Hitting them from well conceiled firing positions 

With explosiveness that'll make the deaf listen 

Drastic, pyroclastic, connected with the same old 

Down the dangerous slopes of an active volcano 

Photos 

Blitz like the Green Bay Packers, sack like the linebackers 

Hang with niggas, like redneck crackers 

Strangle cold bottles of Beck's, like a vexed German 

Duck low behind the car, my tech burning 

Neck burning, from eight karats of sunlight 

Absorbed, in the grill, Big Pun like 

Lord of the Wu-Tang sword, know what that means? 

Like J.R. Tolkien, it's the Lord of the Rings 

This is my man, Chef, auto, like Grand Theft Auto 

The 18th letter, followed by the mark of Zorro 

Plus A, not for apple, but I pack an apple 

Shorty try to buck back, and knock me off the saddle 

Caramel, pecan, sundae, Pregline 

Plump breasts, was filled with saline 

Her big booty cousin, nasty Nadine 

Get you on the floor, whore tried to double team 

Is he still that nucca? Is he in the hood like that? 

Is he really strapped? Will he really split yo' shit? 

I thought you said he rap? Pull up in the yard, ten sets 

He ain't flexing, microphone ripping, heat holding 

Who testing? Rope-a-dope his black lotus 

Can't quote this, chat with the sword tongue 

Duck when the axe is swinging, wild Apache drum 

Crazy Horse kicking his thoughts, he won't quit 

Can't tell 'em nothing, he grown, give the man room 

Space was demanded, beat banging through the speaker 

Voice, heat seek missle, guided at the listener 

Swing to the gospel, catch up and wet at the brothel 

Unstoppable, direction of my flow, optional 

To the ear, depending on the current of air, the crowd's in