[Verse 1: Solomon Child]
Yeah, Solomon mark for life, a million to life,
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid,
'89 stick-up kid, King of New York,
Regulation party, daddy hard body,
Rowdy Brighton, God body.
Smooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop,
Top of the world, get it rizzight,
Dick to your wizzife, murder cats for the right prizzice,
Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice.
This is real lizzife, ain't nothing sweet, God,
Sit down and think it through, God,
‘Cause comin' all outta ya face will get ya clap, God.
You are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele.
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Step in to the party, it's me God Almighty!
Ghost still holdin' that shotty,
Dust and Alizé, three-quarter Timbs,
Terry cloth robes, crisp hundreds in the envelope,
Dookied on the globe.
Thank God for my Wallabee shoes,
They done saved me, up three-nothing and Salt Lake City,
Burgundy minks, whips with sinks in ‘em,
Broccoli blown, iller disease breath, elephant skin.
Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon,
Bitch like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon,
Bitches think that I'm Dominican, slash half-Indian,
Milk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin,
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals,
White men scream, «Swim, Starks' sharks!»
[Verse 3: RZA]
Smack the jail bail bondsman strength of eighteen bronze men,
Tall like Karl Malone Mailman, frame of Larry Johnson.
Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joes,
Old Suzanna ho, pussy sweet, banana flow.
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate,
Bones splitted, fatal Wu swords, sour amputate,
Duck savannah, wait, you splashed the glass, ice rocks,
Our cash high, right stock, our logo's on your rice box,
Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks,
Bobby got the mic cocked, buck-buck, nice shot.