Lyrics of 'Rivers of Blood (feat. Kool G Rap)' by Wu-Tang Clan

[Intro: RZA]
The Chinese have a saying: "Dangerous men will meet in narrow streets." And so it was. We were raised between the clans, and that meant pressure on me to make more weapons. And as word of the gold shipment spread, strangers suddenly appeared in jungle village

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
[Ay yo, ay yo] Machete still stainless
The archbishop run from the narcs
A Chris biscuit plus play the heart, wrists glisten
Goon captain, catch me in Africa black down with 4 5 Somalians
Black Tims, rubber suit Wonder Woman bangle a blue coupe
I'm usually upon the roof countin' mad loot
Root beer reefer, teeth frame, doin' my 1, 2
Smokin' with a plain Jane trooper
Excellent with rifles, out in Japan
In a flight goons switchblade poke out the Nike boots
Thrusted on a bullet train with chains on, gettin' my train on
Thunder money, make bread, brainstorm
All this is made for the Forbes list
Broads get pissed, say "Yo he fucked me out his drawers he dissed me"
All this is calculated, the Batman with a black hand
Mafia money, killas who rock tens

[Hook: U-God]
Bone crushing, smooth kicks, blades choppin', move(?) bricks
Masters of the weaponry, sells to both cliques
Blacksmith, with the iron fist
X2

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Rigamortus, I watch the body rot to the bone structure
Scrape out your brain, watch your eyeballs rupture
Black magic, leave your fuckin' skull in a soup pot
Makaveli, Vamoose like 2pac
Suicidal tendencies, down the white Hennessy
Look in the book, I'm the definition of menace b
Chokin' niggas out for no reason, it's duck season
I'm cold as ice, 6 degrees below freezing
Stay dipped, rock a striped shirt like Freddy Kreuger
You'se a baby piranha surrounded by barracudas
Seven thirty, I'm more like 6 o' clock
Straight up and down beatin' up niggas till there's blood in they socks
Ox em, duff em', stuff 'em in black bags
Without gettin' no blood on my fresh rags
Ruthless, heart of a stone, grown with no emotions
I piss out brewhas, poisonous potion

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Kool G. Rap]
Yeah, it's the three deadly venoms with weapons in the denims
Shit that'll shake windows and break lay tenants
Left field, aim crooked and straight blaze in em
Have you niggas with straight-legs with a fake leg in em
Wolf in sheep's clothing, eyes scoping a tender lamb
Spin you bitches like a ballroom dinner dance
G-Mode dress code got suspender clamps
Russian roulette, money bet, go and spend your chance
You little fleas get killa bees and army ants
EMS cut up your jeans like zombie pants
Hollow chrome to your collarbone
Ping against your dome piece and sound like the first key on a xylophone
Grown men discussing death and the malice tone
See how quick the smiley faces turn solid stone
Ghostface, Rae and G be the wildest known
We straight street, we keep seats in the palace throne

[Hook]