Our boys in Ohio, comin' through with the crazy
The Wu-Tang shogun, killer to the eardrum
Why oh, why oh?
True like Deja Vu
Peace to the fuckin' Zulu Nation
MZA who was that? Aiyyo, the Wu is back
Method, the Legend, niggaz is sleepy hollow
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
Blessed since the birth, I earth slam your best
Niggaz from Virginia, Atlanta
My man Kelly Moon from the gavin
Rubs off me sticks to you
Yo, niggaz from The Source
Bam, man, slam, jam
I'm rubber, niggaz is like glue
The meth will come out tomorrow
Tiger style, tiger style, yo
And I'm forced to fuck it up
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck with
Makin' niggaz go, bo, bo like on super cat
Represent
Niggaz is like oh, my God, not you
Long Island, Manhattan Bronx
Who make me reminisce
Which way to go? Just follow
Of the punk and the pie
In fact, I'm a hard act to follow
And the survey said, "Ya dead"
Wu-Tang slang, choppin' heads, boy
Straight from the motherfucking slums that's busted
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
There's noplace to hide
'Cause I bake the cake, then take the cake
Word is bond
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
Publishers: UNIVERSAL MUSIC - CAREERS, WU TANG PUBLISHING
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit, fuck with
Rod Strickland, Jason and yeah
Seek the China Sea, I slam tracks
True, true, my nigga, it's goin' down, boy
The whole Texas mob, the Chicago mob
Now why try and test, the Rebel INS?
We ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
I dealt for dolo, Bogart comin' on through
Styles is wild, berserk, bizarro
Rather do than die, check my
Once I step inside the room
And eat it, too, with my crew while we head state to state
Comin' through, boy
Songwriters: Dennis Coles, Robert  Jr Diggs, Gary Grice, Lamont Hawkins, Jason Hunter, Russell Jones, Clifford Smith, Cory Woods
Comin' to a fork in the road
Across the clear blue yonder
Whatever you say
It ain't safe no more, peace
I be tossin', enforcin', my style is awesome
I puts the needle to the groove, I gets rude
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
Yes, I, come to get a slice
Chop his head off, kid
I'm causin' more family feuds than Richard Dawson
Fatal flying guillotine chops off your fuckin' head
Dr. Doom, prepare for the boom
All over the whole fuckin' globe
Comin through know what I'm sayin'?
Flava, comin' from the RZA
Niggaz from Detroit, fuckin' California squadron
Peace to all the Gods and the Earths
Hyah, step up, boy
All the way over there in Morgan State
Flow with more Afro than Rollo
The whole fuckin' West Coast to the whole East
Like quarterbacks sacks from L.T.
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
Me fear no one, oh no, here come
My style carries like a pickup truck
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck wit
And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus
Now scream like Tarzan
Niggaz from D.C. down in Maryland
The rugged lands of Shaolin
Which is short for the razor
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin' ta fuck with, fuck with
Yeah, representin' Brooklyn Queens