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Intro: 

Yo [yeah] Check it out son, check it out son 
Yo, [Wu, can I get a soo] live in the place to be 
You got the capital G 
G to the A-M-C 
Givin a mad shout out to the Ranch Crew from the old school 
And we gonna take y'all back, knowhatI'msayin? 
Lyrical sorcerors right here, the fathers, the cream of the crop son 
[Yo check it] 

Chorus: The Genius 

Well if you livin in the world today 
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say 
Niggaz that front we don't handle em 
So we blast em, alright, well OK 

Well if you like the wicked sound then clap man 
And if the women love it too well then raise your hands 
But only raise your hands if you're Sure 
[Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, break it] 

Verse One: The Genius 

My rhyme gross weight be into combination 
was too heavy for the Chevy's is chased out the station 
Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it and 
gassed up, fucking with some regular unleaded shit 
Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that 
bind-in, X marks the spot on the scope 
Heavenly art, military is necessary, it's a gamble 
MC's bet they best at every 
power move, parable ditties might harm 
if tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs 
Flashbacks to the Duel of the Iron Mic 
Look out for these fatal flying spikes, of massive 
sleep-holds, put strangle on commercial angle 
Microphone cords tangled from being Star Spangled 
Now who could ever say they heard of this? 
My motherfuckin style is mad murderous 

Chorus: (in reverse verse) 

Interlude: Method Man, Genius 

Well what you know about MCin? 
Yo, I know a lot 
Well can you demonstrate somethin nigga? 
Huh, I'd rather not 
I'm talkin bout stacks cuzin 
Nigga that's what I got 
Cash Rules over all 
Well Cash Rules the spot 

Verse Two: The Genius 

My preliminary attack keep cemetaries packed 
Of niggaz who think it ain't like that 
MC's are gunned down like being run down with mad trucks 
then God struck, religious niggaz call it bad luck 
Raps of led, you got caught up in the web 
now bees are stingin, yo that niggaz them singin 
I'll be swingin swords strictly based on keyboards 
Unbalanced like elephants and ants on see-saws 
I throw raps that attack like the Japs on Pearl Harbor 
MC's be out like bank robbers 
Fleeing the scene, to be a sole survivor 
DJ the getaway driver 
Tried to dip but he dive I socialize on vocal vibes 
On tracks stabbed up with razor sharp knives 
Criminal subliminal minded rappers find it 
Hard to define it, when narrow is the gate 
for fat tapes and then played out and out of date 
Then I construct my thoughts on site to renovate 
And from that point, the God made a statement 
Draftin tracements, replacements in basements 
materials in sheet-rock, to sound proof the beat box 
and microscopic optics received through the boxes 
obnoxious topic, major labels, flavor tropical 
Punchlines, that's unstoppable 
Ring like shots from glocks that attract cops 
around the clubs and try to shut down the hip-hop 
But we only increase if everything is peace 
Father U C King the police 

Chorus 

Chorus

Видео-клип к песне Living In The World Today

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