New Producers

[Intro: Shyheim] It's like, you know, I'm the heart of the shit I'm here to bring Wu-Tang back Come on, All in Together, one time, ya'll Come on, man, cuz other niggas is takin' our light What's good? [Chorus: Shyheim] Ya'll niggas out to get the hoes Me, I'm out to get the dough Cuban Linx hangin' low, that's what I'm used to Slingin' thousand grams of snow Burnin' down pounds of 'dro Emptying rounds from the four, that's what I'm used to [Hook: Shyheim] GZA went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?) Ghost went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (huh?) Dirty went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?) But I'm fuckin' with the RZA, cuz, that's what I'm used to [Shyheim] I keep it one hundred across the board, with my comrade Love is loyalty, you better have it for your comrade I let a nigga, have it real bad for my comrade When the odds was against me, all I had was my comrade He lift me up, even when my problems was heavy And now come, the drama was the deadly, my comrade was ready At all costs, we will talk, we will boss Four hits on the Newport, make thoughts on New York And how we can turn it up, they fake niggas burn it up If it ain't about a buck, it won't benefit us When I, take in a risk, fuck that bum bitch Fuck that "we grew up with son", shit Anybody can get it, that's not in the immediate circle I media hurt you, I'm a New York Parolee bitch, would not be in person Been standin' on two door, sit deck to say this Many shall come but only a few shall be chose And no shows in, and sworn through, open To the brotherhood, where we still together when nothing's gold [Chorus] [Hook: Shyheim] Meth went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?) Rae went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (huh?) Deck went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?) But I'm fuckin' with the RZA, cuz... (That's what I'm used ta) [Yumi] Yo, wear my intelligence on my melenin Cuz I'm better than these chickenheads Chicken dancin' bitches that you lettin' in your vortex Beauty make you want more sex See me up, take me out the game, you forget I got a dream, you can't see it, cuz you need more specs And my style can fight the storm, like it was raw tech Playin' mami, give me the mic, bitch, go to your room You don't deserve to hold this mic, cuz, you don't know what you doing Chicks thinkin' they be rhyming, I don't understand it, cuz How rap's on the politics, and block is gan'd up I keep it street, like a man hose, guttering curb Doing me, don't give a fuck about none of you herbs I'm just Yumi, I'm given you, all of me Hated on, by too many, too oftenly That's why I take little steps, and move cautiously Check your man, he the one who be, callin' me These other niggas got a bunch of/ bum ass producers Writin' rhymes for these bitches, cuz that's what they used to (what?) But Shy went and got a fuckin' dime, to let loose cuz (what?) Spittin' on a beat by the Kill Bill producer [Outro: Shyheim] Uh... problem... P.U Don't ever forget nobody else You know... Shyheim.. Yumi.. R-Z-A on the track.. Shaolin, we back!