Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off) (Dirty Mix)
Wu-Tang Clan
Popularity ยท Low
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Lyrics
Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome to you
All the way from the slums of Shaolin
Special uninvited guests
Came in through the back door
Ladies and gentlemen, it's them!
Dance with the mantis, note the slim chances
Chant this anthem, swing like Pete Sampras
Takin' it straight to big man on campus
Brandish your weapon or get dropped to the canvas
Scandalous, make the metro panic, cause static
With or without the automatic, and while I'm at it
Yo, you got cash? Pass it, it's drastic
Got to send half to Dirty Bastard
Ayo, waves is spinnin', blades is spinnin'
Slay 'em in the eighth inning, stay truck, God stay playin' linen
Kill rap, observe the uptowns, ho, feel that
Mink jeans on, seen where the real at
Two thousand Zitos, movin' with a ill ego
For real, for real, ill lines, ill people, yo
Bring it back, nine more civilians
Polly and deals, monopoly and bills, y'all niggas lyin'
Caught 300, lab look royal with a mean stomach
Go broke, all seen, done it, words from the heavy set
If I don't eat, then we already met
Fly-ass boat, liver than coke
Now, what clan you know with lines this ill?
Bust shots at Big Ben like we got time to kill
Niggas can't jell or I'm just too high to tell
Put on my gasoline boots and walk through hell
With nine generals, nine ninjas in your video
Nine milli' flow, semi-auto with no serial
Mad metaphysical, I speak for criminals
Who don't pay they bills on time and fuck with digital
Never seen, smoke a bag of evergreen
My sword got a jones, more heads for the severing
Johnny in the dungeon, takin' all bets, throw your ones in
Scared money don't make money, throw your guns in
That's word to Damo, San Juan, Puerto Rico
Blowin' hydro on the beach with some eco
My gun bullet hollow for you to swallow, blowin' a nozzle
Hear a whistle? One in the head
This is code red, man for dead
X amount of lead spray from the barrel
He clear the street like Connor O'Carroll
Fully equipped, rifle, banana clip shit
To make my niggas from East New York flip
Yo, you may catch me in a pair of Polo skippies
Matchin' cap, razor blades in my gums (Bobby)
You may catch me in yellow Havana Joe's
Blue jumper, my phaser off, son (Bobby)
Y'all might just catch me in the park playin' chess
Studyin' math, signin' seven and a son (Bobby)
But you won't catch me without the ratchet in the joint
Smoked out, dead broke or off point (Bobby)
Wallo's comfortable, chocolate frostin'
Your socks hangin' out, yours is talkin'
Rock so steadily, son, I'm still crazy
Sport my old Force MD furs in the '80s
Nat Turners with burners, Jackie Joyner-Kersee
Taught y'all niggas how to rap, reimburse me
Rocks sales, ruby red sales, Bloomingdale blocks
Oxtails chopped up in Caribbean spots
I'm nice, maxed out, creepin' with the axe out
Murder beach bikini bitches switchin' with they backs out
You niggas wanna pop shit? I pop clips
Bitch, I put my dick on your lips
Alabama's blick hammer slay quick
That David Banner, gamma ray shit
Shells in the mouth, jailhouse snitch
My powder voice, Snow White sniff
Verbal killers, gorilla grip
God body shit, puff Marley spliffs
You might see me in the 6, that's not my style
You might see me with a bitch, that's not my child
I be in the Benzo, keep a low profile
Dead serious, take flicks and don't smile
Tryna get money, y'all cats is wild
I pose for the clothes, make a song like, "Wow"
I'm a chip off the board game, got sword game
Live life to the fullest, still want more fame
Darts on layaway, fiends on standby
Outfits pressed up, ready for air time
Run on the track like Jesse Owens
Broke the record flowin' without any knowin'
That my wordplay run a four-hundred-meter relay
It's on once I grab the baton from the DJ
An athlete with his iron cleat in the ground
Wireless nigga who sprint off the gun sound
The best time yet, still 7.0