Lyrics:

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the lyrical Grand Prix
We have our drivers racin' for a $3m purse, winner takes all
Gentlemen, start your engines!

Gimme room, hit the tune
Feature presentation comin' soon, early June
Killa Bee platoon well-groomed spells doom
Raise the volume, you react like a werewolf in a full moon
With the force of a Trojan horse pushin' forward
Have your seat belt fastened, we blastin' into orbit
Movin' toward a new chamber, Wu-Banga #9
Expert precision and design
Mastermind the plan, took a matter of time
From the confines of the cold world, I shine
It's amazin' — the grace, changin' the pace
Blazin' the brakes, invadin' the space
Switchin' lanes in the race, claimin' first place
Raisin' the stakes, it's a game to these fakes
I own many jewels, drop more than I wear
I come in peace, prepare for the warfare
The invincible fold when they caught in the square
Then they talk mad shit when the coast is clear

Yes, ladies and gentlemen!
We've just completed the first lap!

Blood kin, knowledge-knowledge, I build with rap scholars
Guns and wallets, prowess, Staten wildin', stylist
12-men roster, live long, prosper
Street philosopher, you end up like Jimmy Hoffa
Ain't a damn thing changed but the aim, bullet range
Strange universe, I was nursed to blow your mainframe
Think first, convert, all verse live in concert
Pull a skirt, burst, while y'all niggas star search
Mind yours, why you eyein' mines for?
Posin' like a matador, I must got somethin' you wanna die for
Touch mine — read tomorrow's headline, bold print
9-inch rusty splint pushed through your nose vent
Got my eyes on the grand prize, place your bet
Watch me win it by a landslide, pull off an upset
Hold the burner close by my hands and my pocket
Hold the trophy high and keep my eyes on the profit

And a new driver has entered the contest
Ladies and gentlemen, driver #99
In the red car...

Fog lights beam, car 99 supreme
A high-powered machine spits sparks of Gabardine
The smell of gasoline, motor roar, the crowd roars
The rag top rip, box cutter caught in my jaws
Enforcin' my laws, ramrod in your garage
The grease lightnin', dusty rose, shake him, bon voyage
Now duel of the iron, flyin' feud for you writers
The speed demon, rebel talk, triggers, freedom fighters
Was tracked in the cock pit, I'm writin' exact
I'm crushin' corners, who that kid ridin' the track?
With the Wu helmet, 6th nigga, 5 cars back
The last but not least, I blitz through the scrimmage
No brakes, I dart, I'm racin' for the finish
Understand my hunger from a land down under
It's a thunderous rush after the sound get crushed
The purse snatchin' pound
By all means snatch C.R.E.A.M., tear your ass outta town

As we near the final lap
Team Wu-Tang seems to be buildin' a sizeable lead on the competition

Yo! I know how to fold 'em like Kenny Rogers
Popular demand, overstand these piranhas
Movin' on the track like a Monaco GT
I stand out similar to 3D on your TV
Easily breezin', watchin' the speed dial climb
Style of rhyme left the foes miles behind
Leavin' skid marks on the charts
Aimed at the hearts of the fake, sparks on the tape
It starts from the gate, darts penetrate
Freestyle as the decoy that sharpens the bait
Holdin' major weight, my Supreme Team dominates
Circulatin', takin' all bets you place
In and outta state, twirlin' L's on the freeway
NY to SC, NC to VA
GA to MD, CA to KY
FL to IL, TX to MI

As we near the checkered flag, ladies and gentlemen
Team Wu-Tang holdin' down the 1st, 2nd and 3rd positions
And it looks like it's goin' to be another sure win for Team Wu-Tang
As they take home another pot of gold with this $3,000,000 purse
Rebel INS, U-God, Street Life

Get the loot, get the loot
Cash money, y'all
Cash money, y'all
Cash money, y'all