Original subtitles

One of us should have won that shit, son.

It's 'cause all them niggas went up there as a unit.

Niggas ain't giving Staten no respect.

We do them Wu‐Tang from the bottom up.

‐ Hey, yo, who this again? ‐ Wu‐Tang Clan.

‐ They all over the streets.

‐ Yeah, there's eight of them. Sound dope, right?

‐ Can I buy one off of you?

‐ You need to find a distributor.

Get into more than just the local mom and pops.

It would help if we had a label

- ‐ behind us, though, you know? - Hey, yo!

Y'all said something about a‐‐ a Def Jam party?

‐ Hey, excuse me. Can I help you with something?

‐ Hey, yo, we got something for you.

Here's Wu‐Tang Clan with "Protect Ya Neck."

♪ Wu‐Tang Clan ♪

‐ Oh, shit!

‐ Ooh, can you turn that up?

You know what? Actually, never mind.

I'm going to, uh‐‐ I'm going to stack that.

Out of the five boroughs of New York City,

it could be said that the Bronx

is the most dangerous.

But they say pressure makes diamonds,

and out of the grit and grime,

the culture we now know as hip‐hop was born.

The pioneers, from Kool Herc

to Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five

to the Cold Crush Brothers‐‐

they all hailed from the Bronx.

The B‐X. The Boogie Down.

The Bronx was also home to one of the most iconic

hip‐hop venues in the city‐‐ the Fever.

This is where legends like Kool Moe Dee,

Busy Bee Starski, Kurtis Blow, and Run‐DMC were made.

And those who couldn't cut it on that stage?

Their dreams died in the club that night.

Didn't matter if you were from Queens,

Manhattan, Brooklyn, or even the Bronx.

But a crew from Staten Island? The bastard borough?

At the Fever? Good luck and Godspeed.

‐ It's expensive and a pain in the ass

to get three artists on a plane, let alone eight.

‐ Don't forget, your recording costs

are guaranteed to be lower

because Bobby does all his producing.

You got the streets,

but this label is bigger than that.

At best, what you have right now is a B‐side.

‐ Yo, "The Symphony" was a B‐side.

"Live at the Barbeque"?

Shit, a bunch of B‐sides blew artists up

into superstars.

‐ No offense, but what do you do for the group?

‐ I'm the executive producer.

So talk as if I'm not here. But don't forget I am.

Yo, Divine, where you steal that suit from, son?

A Forbes convention?

I think that CEO title is getting to your head, son, word.

‐ Yo, why'd you even come

if you're just gonna talk shit all day?

‐ Do you know your mathematics, son?

I came so there could be four of us.

Four represents culture,

freedom, righteousness,

and peace, God.

Plus, this is Def Jam, nigga.

Y'all really thought I was gonna let y'all

come in here without me?

Man, it's like being at the Hip‐Hop Hall of Fame, son.

Yo, one day they gonna paint my name right next to LL, man.

No, fuck that, they gonna paint me on the ceiling,

- ‐on some Michelangelo shit... - All right, yo, yo...

With my nuts hanging out and everything, yo, word.

‐ Take it easy, nigga, all right?

‐ Can I get you gentlemen anything?

I think we're good.

‐ I will take a coffee

with real and fake sugar, cream, half and half,

and a dash of honey.

Thank you.

‐ You don't even drink coffee, man.

‐ You should always ask for something.

That way they get used to giving you shit

right off the bat.

‐ The man's a genius.

Yo, they ready for us.

- Hey, yo, represent, son. - Of course, of course.

Whoo, so you one of them mocha chocka‐latte

moisturized gold wax

melted female angels that just be sliding in from heaven

just to tempt a brother, huh?

We produced a single that's getting mad airplay,

our sales are up, and our name is ringing out

in the streets more and more every day.

‐ And even though we've done it all independent,

we feel like now it's time for us to sign with a label

and, uh, you know, take over this whole game.

‐ You know what I always say about a new song?

If it ain't getting my pussy wet...

Then it ain't working.

Seeing the looks on they faces

when I say something like that,

that's the highlight of my day.

Come on, guys could talk that sex shit all day

but as soon as those words come out of a female's mouth,

these niggas in here stuttering

like they being questioned by the police.

‐ Word?

‐ So may we ask...

‐ "Protect Ya Neck" got me wet.

But what if it's a one‐hit‐wonder?

I mean, it doesn't even have a hook.

‐ Yeah, well, there's a bunch of songs that don't have hooks

that have been mad successful.

"Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Losing My Religion." "Hey Jude."

‐ Can you even write a hook?

‐ Of course I can. But that's not the point.

‐ What's the point then?

‐ Look...

Wu‐Tang has a different energy.

You dig?

‐ Speaking of energy, have you guys

ever performed live as a group?

I mean, how does eight people on stage even work?

And speaking of performances, we don't even know

what the other members of the group look like.

So come see us then.

We performing at the Fever this weekend.

‐ You're performing at the Fever?

- ‐ Yup. - Today or tomorrow?

‐ Tomorrow. ‐ Today‐‐couldn't work.

So, yeah, yeah, tomorrow.

‐ Tomorrow then. What time?

‐ Early. ‐ Late.

‐ Okay.

‐ We're still trying to figure out the details, so...

‐ Okay, I'll be there tomorrow.

- Great. - All right, cool.

Thank you for your time.

- ‐ Mm‐hmm. Great. Yeah. - Cool.

No one just books the Fever.

I got signed acts I'm still trying to get on that stage.

Being one of the few female A&Rs in the game,

I'm used to these niggas trying to serve me up

a scoop of bullshit on a cone,

expecting me to take a bite with a smile.

I didn't get to Def Jam

by putting up with any of that.

‐ With all due respect, yo, but what the fuck, man?

‐ Yeah, we don't have no damn slot at the Fever,

know what I mean?

‐ Yo, look, I was getting tired of everybody

talking about y'all lack of live performance experience

so I stepped the fuck up. ‐ Oh, yeah.

Yeah, you stepped in something. I'll give you that

Yo, whatchu talking about, son?

‐ Yo, this nigga Power lied and told them

that we's performing at the Fever.

Tomorrow, yo. ‐ Ooh!

Listen, listen, listen, all right?

I'ma handle it, a'ight?

We will have a spot at the Fever, a'ight?

Trust. That's my word.

‐ Well, I guess I could... get the fellas together

for a rehearsal or some shit

while you go and pull a rabbit out your ass, nigga.

‐ Yeah, nigga, 'cause hustling is magic, nigga.

I'ma catch y'all later.

‐ Yo, and I'll go back to the labels

and make sure that they come to the show.

You know, this could be our one shot,

you know what I mean? ‐ Yeah.

It's looking like it.

‐ Yeah. ‐ All right.

Bam!

Look at the digits I got, nigga.

Yeah.

‐ That's the main number to Def Jam.

‐ Yo, at least it ain't fake. You know what I'm saying, son?

‐ Hey, Dirty, don't even think

about telling anybody about the Fever

until we know for sure that we got it.

- All right? - Come on, son.

I ain't gonna tell nobody nothing.

Yo, that's what's wrong with Negroes now, son.

Always accusing motherfuckers and shit.

Yo, that's why we can't get along, son.

Just remember that.

‐ Thank you for letting me nap in there.

‐ Girl, you need a break.

Why don't you go for a walk or something?

I can watch the baby.

‐ No, it's okay.

What are you making?

Oh, my God.

I didn't know you had skills like that.

‐ Yeah, my mama taught me. I hated it.

Didn't think it was very empowering.

Learning how to sew, you know.

But I was wrong.

Making something from beginning to end is very powerful.

‐ Yeah. Yeah, I get that.

That's kind of how I felt when I helped the boys the other day.

I was making all these calls to the radio station.

Yeah, girl. ‐ Yeah.

I heard about that.

See, I ain't the only one with mad skills.

Yeah, thanks.

But nothing since then.

Like, Dennis doesn't even invite me to the studio.

‐ You don't need permission for shit, okay?

Them fools better recognize.

Oh, get that, get that. Hurry up. Go, go, go.

‐ Hello?

What are you talking about?

‐ Who is it?

‐ Yeah, hold on, hold on.

Is Wu‐Tang performing at the Fever tomorrow?

‐ Girl, the Fever?

‐ Right. ‐ The Fever. What?

Where the fuck you hear that?

‐

‐ Oh, shit.

Cool. Thanks, man.

Playing at the Fever tomorrow night.

Yo. ‐ Yo.

If you wanted it kept a secret, why you tell me?

Hey, yo, what's up, girl?

Come on, you know you wanna see me at the Fever.

‐ Yeah, see you get chased the hell up out of there.

Yeah, right. Nobody chasing me nowhere.

You know that.

Got stabbed four different times.

‐ Pow! ‐ All of them at the Fever.

‐ Damn, yo! All at the Fever?

‐ Hope you bring a army with you.

Bronx ain't no joke.

‐ Hey, the Wu‐Tang Clan is an army.

You coming? ‐ Hell, yeah.

‐ Hell, yeah. ‐ We'll see you there, right?

‐ Hey, yo, Dirty, let's hit it.

All right.

‐ Good work, Tom. Damn!

‐ Excuse me, are you the owner of the Fever?

‐ I am.

‐ May I?

Look, if I could have a moment of your time,

I represent a group called the Wu‐Tang Clan.

‐ Yeah, I've heard of them. ‐ You have?

Yeah, they're the group who keeps

having people call asking

if they're gonna be performing this weekend.

‐ That's actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.

‐ You got some balls trying to force my hand.

Wh‐‐what am I? Some kinda asshole?

‐ Look, we just wanna play at the venue, all right?

So how can we make that happen?

You get in line like everybody else.

‐ It's gotta be tomorrow night.

- ‐ Tomorrow night? - Yeah.

‐ First off, we're booked. We been booked.

Second, fuck off.

‐

‐ Yo, finally!

Yo, it's Saturday, not Take Forever Day, nigga.

Let me get a number three on a hero.

Yo, and cut the tomatoes sideways and thin, a'ight?

And the pickles too. Cut them in three pieces.

Hey, yo, and spread my shit out evenly.

I don't like‐‐I don't like when I take a bite

and all the shit fall out the back and shit.

Hey, yo, wash the blade first, nigga.

Y'all supposed to be Muslim in here.

What's up? All I smell is mad pork.

When you finish the sandwich,

cut it up into eight pieces, all right?

And wash your hands, nigga.

With soap this time.

Yo, Stapleton!

Hey, yo, what's up? Is there a problem here?

‐ Yo, that shit y'all Wu‐Tang did was fire, bro!

‐ Oh, word, word. ‐ Yo, what's the word?

Everything good? ‐ Hell yeah, everything good.

And make sure you kill it tonight at the Fever too.

You heard? ‐ You know who

you talking to, man. Come on, man.

‐ All right. ‐ Yeah.

Son, that's cra‐‐

I‐‐I thought he was about to be static.

You know what I mean? ‐ Me too, shit.

He was just showing Wu some love, though.

Hey, you know what?

I think I robbed that nigga last year.

‐ Yo, son.

Yo, this Wu sound done squashed the Stapleton‐Park Hill beef.

‐ Hey, yo, when it come to this hip‐hop shit,

it's Gattin' Staten versus the world, B!

‐ Hell yeah.

Hey, yo, and you know how many dope groups

played at the Fever, son?

- Grandmaster Flash. - Mm.

Run‐DMC, KRS‐One.

The Fat Boys, Whodini.

‐ Word. The Fever got history.

This‐‐yo, what's the word, God?

Hey, yo, what up, what up, what up?

Yo, peace, peace.

‐ Yo. You ready for rehearsal?

‐ Nigga, is you ready for rehearsal?

‐ Come on, man. You know who you talking to.

Yo, man, y'all kill

that shit tonight. ‐ Yo, appreciate y'all.

Y'all coming tonight, right?

- Hell, yeah. - Wack‐ass boom box.

Yo, what's up?

Yo, Bobby. What up, guy?

Hey, yo, yo. Yo.

- What's good, cuz? - Peace, man.

Boom, boom.

Hey, yo, check one, check two.

Man, check all them bitches, son!

‐ Hey, yo. Yo, I've already labeled and leveled

all of these, all right?

First one right here is yours.

‐ This mine‐‐yo, why mine's

got to be the busted up ghetto corded one, yo?

‐ Yo. ‐ Come on, son.

Yo‐‐wilding, yo. Hey, yo, check one, check two.

Yo, sound guy, turn this up, man!

Yo, check one, check two.

Four score and seven years ago,

a motherfucker went and did some shit,

then went and got that motherfucker fucked up, yo!

Amen.

‐ Yeah, sounds ill. Perfect.

Word.

‐ Yo, when we get started,

turn that shit back down to two.

Can't have him blowing up the mic.

- Peace, guy. - Hey, peace.

Yo, Bobby.

All right, so, uh, all the executives

confirmed that they're coming.

But that means that we can't mess this up.

So, you know, where the hell is everyone, huh?

‐ Hey, relax. They're not even late yet.

Fuck it, yo. Hey, yo, hold on, man.

Hey, yo, check one.

♪ Suuu ♪

‐ You're right, you're right. ‐ All right.

Hey, yo.

- It's the God, bro. - It's the God.

Hey, yo, what's that? Turkey and cheese?

Damn, son, you know I need parts of that, yo.

Come on, son. You know I need this.

Hey, yo, sound good!

Come on, man, I sound good right here.

‐ Hey, yo, yo, when everybody else gets here,

I'ma go over the set list,

then we gotta rehearse the hell out of this shit.

We got less than an hour, so we gotta really be on top of it.

- All right? - All right, word.

‐ Most important... have you talked to Power?

The show is in five hours,

and we don't even know if we in the motherfucker!

‐ I know; I haven't spoken to him since we last saw him.

Shit.

I‐‐I gotta get some air, okay?

Can we rehearse, please? Let's get started.

Yo, yo, I've been paging you all day, son.

I've been on my route.

Came down here to get my shit tight.

Yo. ‐ What up, what up?

‐ Anything else you need to know?

You're worse than my girl.

Yo, everybody's talking about how y'all playing

down at the Fever tonight.

- Congratulations. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah.

‐ Yeah, I imagine my name's gonna be

on that list, though, right?

‐ So look, about that, right?

That's not, like, official official yet,

you know what I mean?

I kinda exaggerated at the Def Jam meeting.

‐ Exaggerated, huh?

‐ Yeah, and all the labels is gonna be there,

so if we don't perform, we going to look like jokes,

- you know what I'm saying? - Hmm.

I need you to work that magic, yo.

Come on, son.

‐ Well, they gotta be booked up this late.

‐ Yeah, but your name's good in the Bronx, I know that.

‐ My name's good in Botswana. Everywhere I go.

‐ Right, so look, you know, I went and talked to the owner.

He won't give me no kind of play.

So I was thinking maybe you could, like, help us

get a little sit down with this guy.

You know what I'm saying? Talk it out.

I know you got that. Come on.

‐ I might could make some phone calls.

- ‐ Word? - Yeah.

‐ Appreciate you, B. Appreciate you.

‐ Yo, try not to do any more exaggerating for a while.

‐ I got you. Nice cut, though.

‐ I know, he's the best, this guy.

‐ ♪ Yo, for crying out loud, my style is wild ♪

♪ So book me ♪

‐ All right, so we have Deck. He has the first verse.

I'm thinking he comes out first.

♪ Hos in there go ♪ ‐ And then...

"Yo tell!"

‐ Come on, Bobby, let's get started.

Come on. ‐ All right.

Yo, everybody bring it in.

‐ Why we doing sound check here anyway?

‐ Because, nigga, there's no sound check at the Fever.

‐ Man, I still don't get it. This ain't the same system.

This ain't the venue.

It's not like we gonna sound the same

when we get there anyway.

Yeah, exactly, nigga.

When we walk on that stage, we ain't going to sound

how we want to sound.

We gotta keep on performing

even if the crowd can't hear us.

‐ Well, they going to hear me regardless, son,

you know what I'm saying?

‐ Can't just be yelling, though.

You're gonna blow your voice.

Now, look, you gotta keep that same energy.

Don't matter if it's ten people in the crowd or 10,000.

It's the Fever.

It's not going to be ten people in the crowd.

‐ You know, true, true.

But it might only be ten people that fuck with us.

They'll be more than that.

I spoke to the Gods. They'll be there.

Peace, God.

See, Jamel got our back, and so does the nation.

What I'm trying to say is,

anything could happen.

We may get booed.

‐ Hey, yo, we ain't getting booed, son.

And if they do, I'ma see them.

‐ All right. ‐ I've been booed before.

But, look, we're gonna win them over

with our hand over the mic, not our hand in their face.

Yo, why y'all bugging?

We already got a hit in the streets.

‐ So what?

When we do "Protect Ya Neck,"

we gotta give them something more than the record, son.

- That shit got to be phat. - Yo, he's right.

The execs are coming 'cause they heard our single,

and they fucked with it,

and now they wanna see us perform it.

‐ Man, I don't give a damn about no execs, son.

‐ Then don't perform for them.

When I did Cold Chillin' shows

with Biz Markie, Kane, Kool G Rap,

son, they was the audience every night.

Sha, you see me? What?

Nah, okay, you talking your shit right now.

‐ And with that, the set list goes...

Yo, what up, people?

Me and Vine got a little gift for y'all.

‐ Yo, word? ‐ Shit.

Let's see, man.

Whoo!

Oh, shit! That's crazy!

Know what I'm sayin'? Crazy! ‐ Yeah, yeah, yeah,

y'all fucking with that, right?

Su!

Got the logo and everything, son.

Hey, nigga, thanks, yo.

‐ Yeah, all good. Hey, where Meth at?

‐ Anybody know where Meth is at?

He had to go help out Poppy's mom.

He'll meet us at the Fever.

All right. ‐ All right, let's get started.

Let's start rehearsing.

‐ Where mine? ‐ Nigga‐‐

Hey, yo, we got matching outfits.

Now all we need is the choreography and shit.

‐ What're you talking about? Get your corny ass out of here.

‐ ‐ You tryin' to be like

Las Vegas‐‐get the fuck outta here!

‐ The set list goes "Protect Ya Neck"...

‐ Oh, yeah.

‐ Then we got "Method Man,"

and we're gonna close with "Can It Be All So Simple."

Whoo. Oh, shit.

‐ Hey, yo, hey, yo, we closing the set?

‐ Yeah, you two. Together.

‐ We‐‐we just recorded that record.

I mean, the Streets of Shaolin

ain't even heard that record yet.

Nobody knows the song.

‐ Look, after tonight, everybody will.

Tell me, Bobby.

You scared now. ‐ Yo, you good, D?

‐ Yeah, no doubt, son.

All right, then go and rehearse them verses.

Yo, uh, play that shit "Protect Ya Neck."

Play my shit, son.

Whoo!

‐ All right, check!

Wu‐Tang! Wu‐Tang!

Wu...Tang...

‐ Hey, yo, yo, yo, what's‐‐what's going on?

I thought we had 40 more minutes.

‐ Class got moved. I've been paging you. Sorry.

‐ Mook? Please, have a seat.

‐ Thanks for meeting with us.

Sure.

When a man of your reputation calls,

I always pick up the phone.

‐ I appreciate that.

‐ That said, I'd love to help you out,

but all due respect, my place ain't the Apollo.

Can't just get up on stage. It's the Fever.

Legends perform there.

‐ We know that. ‐ Do you?

You know, I may look how I look,

but that doesn't mean I don't know music.

I love this shit.

I'm the one who brought Kurtis Blow here first.

The Sugarhill Gang, Afrika Bambaataa‐‐me.

You get on my stage, and your career

could be made in an instant. ‐ I feel you.

‐ Then you know I can't possibly let a group

I never even heard of get on my stage tonight.

‐ You took this meeting based on my reputation, hmm?

And I'm not about to put that on the line

or waste your valuable time if this group wasn't for real.

Previous overtures notwithstanding.

‐ Psshh.

‐ Okay, let's talk hypothetical.

What if I can cram you in the spot

right before the headliner?

- ‐ Fine by us. - All right.

‐ The only thing, it's too late to change the flyer,

so the crowd ain't gonna know who the hell your guys are.

People are gonna be yelling for the headliner,

and then you guys will come on.

‐ Like I said, fine by us.

‐ Can you put us on the marquee?

‐ You know what, Mook,

I'm really not sure this is the right fit.

‐ Look forgive my colleague, huh?

But‐‐but understand his enthusiasm.

We've been negotiating with all the labels,

and when our first album comes out,

a huge release party is gonna be thrown by said label.

Do you understand how much money these people can drop?

I think the Fever would be a perfect place for that party.

Don't you?

Okay, you got yourself a show.

- Do you need help? - Oh, I got it.

You just enjoy your night off.

‐ I can't believe this is my first night out since the baby.

‐ I know. Dennis know you're coming?

‐ No. And neither does Bobby.

Because the last time I checked,

they don't own me or the Fever.

‐ Damn, girl. Excuse me.

‐ Besides, Dennis would worry.

I've actually never been to the Bronx before.

‐ Never?

Oh, you're gonna get one hell of an introduction tonight.

‐ I know, I know.

Everybody talks about how wild the Fever gets.

‐ Yeah.

‐ But at this point, I'd rather get blood on my dress

from a knife fight than baby spit‐up.

‐ Let's be real, too, we've given blood,

sweat, and tears for the music.

‐ Preach! ‐ Even if we don't rap or sing.

‐ I don't know about that one 'cause I've been known

to carry a note or two.

‐ Okay, I'm just saying, though.

This our moment as much as theirs.

And look, I know we look cute as hell,

but, you know, it is the Fever, so how we gonna jump the line?

‐ Mm.

Divine had a stack of a bunch of different ones

just laying on the table, so tonight, I am...

‐ LeeAnn Canley of Capitol Records?

‐ And you're my associate.

‐ Do I get an expense account?

‐ Ask your man.

‐ Ask my man.

These guys actually booked the Fever.

Gotta give them credit.

I mean, if they end up being garbage,

maybe I'll hire them for our booking department.

♪ Back in the days I knew rap would never die ♪

♪ I used to listen to Awesome Two on WHBI ♪

♪ I used to hear all kind of rap groups ♪

♪ Before sampling loops ♪

♪ Rappers wore bell‐bottom Lee suits ♪

♪ Me and Kenny couldn't afford that ♪

♪ So we would go to the park ♪

♪ When they was jammin' to hear rap ♪

♪ I used to listen till the cops broke it up ♪

♪ I always thought to myself ♪

♪ "Damn, why they fucked it up?" ♪

♪ But nevertheless, I was in love with the microphone ♪

♪ And it stayed that way until I left home ♪

♪ On the streets of New York, now I'm free ♪

♪ But with freedom comes big responsibility ♪

♪ I used to walk around driven by the force ♪

♪ I remember how large ♪

♪ Super Rhymes was when he fell off ♪

♪ I used to wonder about‐‐ ♪

‐ It's too late to pray, nigga.

You should have been practicing more, nigga.

Pressure makes diamonds,

but it can also make coal.

What happens when you step onto that stage

into that pressure cooker?

Depending on how that goes, I can sign you to Def Jam,

and your name will ring bells for years.

Or you can sign a whatever deal

with a whoever label,

and your music might be in the bargain bin forever.

‐ Su! ‐ Yo, Staten Island!

- What up, niggas? - Shaolin!

Su!

‐ Yo, how they just gonna misspell our shit, son?

This is mad unprofessional!

‐ I'm here with my group.

‐ Yeah, I don't know them. Look like a bumblebee or. something

‐ Hey, yo, Staten Island in the house?

Whoo!

Yo, our people getting wet out there, son.

Come on. ‐ Hey, I peep that.

‐ I brought the Wu‐Tang Clan. They're performing tonight.

‐ There ain't no way.

All eight of them in one group?

‐ Yeah, there is.

‐ I'll let three in, tops.

‐ How the hell they

supposed to perform with just three of them?

‐ Next time, come up with a better lie.

‐ Yo, this the group!

But your bouncer ain't trying to let us in.

‐ Yeah, all right, let them in.

‐ Thank you!

‐ Go ahead and enter.

‐ Thank you, sir.

‐ Man, come on, man.

On some clown shit.

‐ Yo, we do have people outside.

‐ Oh hell no.

Man, you guys are fine,

but the rest of Staten Island?

You can stand in line, man.

‐ Yo, we in the show!

‐ All right, so you can either go inside yourselves,

or you can stand outside with your friends

and get wet and miss your own show.

‐ Yo, it's all good.

‐ Damn, son.

‐ Come on. Arms here.

All right, you're good. You're good.

Come on, next.

What is this? All right, next.

‐ Yo, you know I got the biscuit on me, nigga.

I can't go through this shit. ‐ Yo, what?

Why the fuck would you bring that shit here, nigga?

‐ It's the Fever, right?

Hey, yo, yo.

What's up?

‐ This nigga Dirty got a heater on him, bro.

‐ Fuck. ‐ I know.

You buggin' out.

‐ Yo, yo, can't talent come on through?

We don't got time for the metal detector.

Come on, yo.

‐ Dirty. Dirty.

Yo.

Yo, what the hell is that, man?

‐ Oh, you‐‐you know, it's the Wu‐Tang Sword.

‐ Man, you not going in the club with a sword.

‐ It's a prop, yo.

‐ Dude, you're not going in there with a sword.

‐ Yo, calm, son. ‐ Don't argue with me.

You're not going in there with a sword.

‐ Yo, yo, yo, yo. I got this, I got this.

You don't touch me.

Give me the sword, man! ‐ I got this. I got this, dude.

You don't tell me what to do.

You touching me, man?

What the fuck is a wu tang?

Hey, Mel, this mo'fucker right here.

Do I look like I'm scareda you?

Who fuckin' is you?

♪ DJ Doc, you know he's down with us ♪

♪ D‐Square, he's down with us ♪

‐ Yo, where the fuck the execs at, yo?

‐ I don't know.

They're supposed to be here by now.

‐ Yo, hold on, hold on.

No, no, no, no, no, no, these are taken, man.

‐ Y'all niggas in VIP? No?

Then get the fuck outta here.

♪ He's down with us...♪

‐ Yo, they better show up, man.

Hey, yo, yo.

Security still ain't letting any

of our Staten Island people in, yo.

Yo, word.

‐ I'm on it.

♪ Uh, yeah ♪

♪ Play me now, uh‐huh, we got ♪

♪ Play me now, we rockin' ♪

♪ Play me now...♪

‐ Shit, nigga.

The fuck outta here.

‐ Aw, shit.

‐ Fuck these fake‐ass, dancing ass niggas.

‐ Told y'all. Matching outfits.

Nigga, they wouldn't believe me, though.

Yo, the execs still ain't here, man.

♪ From how we do slam a few ♪

♪ Then you want to purchase a dialogue of funk ♪

♪ You love to pop it in your trunk ♪

♪ I win, more disciplined than the Shaolin monk ♪

♪ Pete Rock and C. L., well set to spark it ♪

♪ The powerful target to destroy the black market ♪

Yo, you, come here, come here.

‐ ♪ I guess another beggar can't afford to be choosey ♪

‐ Hey, baby.

‐ What's wrong?

‐ Nothing, nothing, nothing. Everything is great.

‐ All right, um, well, I'ma let you do your thing.

I just wanted to give you something real quick.

‐ ‐ Open it.

Okay, then.

Good to see you. You looking beautiful.

Mm‐hmm.

‐ Wow, you made it for us?

‐ You know why I made a flag?

'Cause a flag represents a army.

No matter where you are, if you in hostile territory,

just know that you've always got a army standing with you.

‐ ♪ Lovely way to loop in a Lexus Coupe ♪

♪ Just a little bit, set to make...♪

Oh! Make some noise!

Yo, uh, thanks for getting us a spot tonight.

‐ Yo, make some room for free‐styling...

‐ And, uh, I heard about what you did with the gun.

And not to mention getting all our Staten Island people in.

‐ Ain't no thing. ‐ No, no, it is.

I want you to be the group's manager.

Me and Power are doing the exec thing,

and we need someone like you.

You know, if you're interested.

‐

‐ All right.

♪ Brothers passing away I got to make wakes ♪

♪ Receiving all types‐‐ receiving all‐‐ ♪

Damn, son.

Receivin' all types.

Damn, they getting rowdy out there, son!

Them boys got soaked. ‐ Oh, my...

Yo.

Yo, you guys are on. Now.

‐ No, no, no, no, no, no, they not.

The executives, they ain't here yet.

‐ Yo, D, they waiting.

I hear that. Okay, look.

All we got to do is stall them.

Right, Bobby? Come on.

We just got to figure out a way to stall them.

‐ Yo, fuck the execs, son. Let's just do this shit.

‐ No, no, no, no. Okay, everyone, just relax.

Put your hands up!

‐ Yo, he shouldn't be up there like that.

- ‐ Oh, shit! - Shut the fuck up, y'all.

Yo, you looking at the original man.

An Asiatic Black man.

And when God be looking you dead in your face,

you should be open to his pearls of wisdom.

You know what I'm saying?

When they singing the truth right at your monkey ass.

You know what I'm saying, yo?

What the fuck are you talking about, man?

‐ Shut the fuck up, yo!

Fuck is wrong with you, man?

Yo, something else, too, man.

All the boroughs be ready to fight and kill each other

over who's the best,

who rep the hardest, and shit like that.

- ‐ But, yo... - Yo, we reppin'!

‐ Who made them subway map lines,

making them boroughs in the first place?

You know what I'm saying?

The same motherfuckers who made them lines in the Middle East.

They don't care if you're a Black man, Chinaman,

whatever the fuck, man.

If you in here, it's 'cause a white man

brought you over here on a motherfucking boat.

Know what I'm sayin'?

White motherfuckers did that shit!

‐ Yo, so if you wanna kill me?

Hey, yo, try me. What I'm sayin' is

why don't we all go kill

the white boat‐owning motherfuckers?

You know what I'm saying?

Yo, what the hell is he saying?

‐ He's‐‐he's going full‐on Huey Newton.

‐ That's quite an intro.

Yo!

‐ Yo, yo, yo! ‐ Spit that!

‐ Why don't we all go kill

the white boat‐owning motherfuckers.

You know what I'm saying?

That's right!

‐ Yo, shut the fuck up!

‐ Yo, yo, yo, hold up, hold up, hold up.

So the point I'm making is, I don't care if you Black,

brown, yellow, red, or white.

Yo, our individual fingers form a fist.

You know what I'm saying? We more powerful together!

That's right! ‐ So I need everybody to put

their motherfucking fists in the air

and help me welcome on stage

the lyrical assassins,

Wu‐Tang Clan!

‐ Wu‐Tang, huh? Whoo! Yes!

Su!

‐ Wu‐Tang Clan coming at ya!

Best protect ya neck, kid!

First to set it off, the Inspectah Deck!

‐ ♪ I smoke on the mic like "Smokin' Joe" Frazier ♪

♪ The hell‐raiser, raisin' hell with the flavor ♪

♪ Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan ♪

♪ Swinging through your town ♪

♪ Like the neighborhood Spider‐Man ♪

♪ So, uh, tick‐tock and keep ticking ♪

♪ While I get ya flipping off the shit that I'm kicking ♪

♪ The Lone Ranger, code red, danger ♪

♪ Deep in the dark with the art to rip the charts apart ♪

♪ The vandal, too hot to handle, you battle ♪

♪ You're saying "goodbye," like Tevin Campbell ♪

♪ Roughneck, Inspectah Deck's on the set ♪

♪ The Rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal ♪

‐ ♪ The way I make the crowd go wild ♪

♪ Sit back, relax, won't smile ♪

♪ Rae got it going' on, pal, call me the rap assassinator ♪

♪ Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger ♪

♪ And I'ma get mad deep like a threat ♪

♪ Blow up your project, then take all your assets ♪

♪ 'Cause I came to shake the frame in half ♪

♪ With the thoughts that bomb shit like math ♪

♪ So if you wanna try to flip, go flip on the next man ♪

♪ 'Cause I grab the clip and hit ya with 16 shots ♪

♪ And more I got ♪

♪ Going' to war with the melting' pot, akh ♪

‐ ♪ It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth ♪

♪ Moving on your left, aah! ♪

♪ And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat ♪

♪ I want to break full, cock me back ♪

♪ Small change, they putting shame in the game ♪

♪ I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame ♪

♪ And like fame, my style will live forever ♪

♪ Niggas crossin' over but they don't know no better ♪

♪ But I do, true, can I get a ♪

♪ Su! ♪ ♪ Enough respect due ♪

♪ To the 1‐6 ooh ♪

♪ I mean, oh, yo, check out the flow ♪

♪ Like the Hudson or PCP when I'm dusting niggas off ♪

♪ Because I'm hot like sauce ♪

♪ The smoke from the lyrical blunt... ♪

Definitely not coal, but not diamonds either.

Stars.

This eight‐man group

is a bunch of motherfucking stars.

‐ ♪ To my crew with the ♪

Su!

♪ Watch your step, yeah ♪ ♪ Come on, baby, baby ♪

♪ Come on, baby, baby, come on, baby, baby ♪

♪ Come on, on ♪

♪ Yo, you best protect ya neck ♪

♪ First things first, man ♪

♪ You're fucking with the worst ♪

♪ I'll be sticking pins in your head ♪

♪ Like a fucking nurse ♪

♪ I'll attack any nigga who's slack in his mack ♪

♪ Come fully packed with a fat rugged stack ♪

♪ Shame on you when you step through ♪

♪ To The Ol' Dirty Bastard ♪

♪ Straight from the Brooklyn Zoo ♪

♪ And I'll be damned if I let any man come to my center ♪

♪ You enter the winter ♪

♪ Straight up and down, that shit is packed jam ♪

♪ You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him, man ♪

♪ The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinking ♪

♪ Ason Unique rolling with the night of the creeps ♪

♪ Niggas be rolling with a stash ♪

♪ Ain't saying cash ♪

♪ Bite my style, I'll bite your motherfucking ass ♪

♪ For crying out loud, my style is wild, so book me ♪

♪ Not long is how long that this rhyme took me ♪

♪ Ejecting styles from my lethal weapon ♪

♪ My pen that rocks from here to Oregon ♪

♪ Here's more again, catch it like a psycho flashback ♪

♪ I love gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back ♪

♪ I come with shit in all types of shapes and sounds ♪

♪ And where I lounge is my stomping grounds ♪

♪ I give an order to my peeps across the water ♪

♪ To go and snatch up props all around the border ♪

♪ And get far like a shooting star ♪

♪ 'Cause who I are is living the life of Pablo Escobar ♪

♪ Point‐blank as I kick the square biz ♪

♪ There it is, you're fucking with pros, and there it goes ♪

♪ Yo, chill with the feedback ♪

♪ Black, we don't need that ♪

♪ It's 10:00, ho ♪

♪ Where the fuck is your seed at? ♪

♪ Feeling mad hostile, wearing the apostle ♪

♪ Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel ♪

♪ Stroll with the holy roll ♪

♪ Then attack the globe with the buckus style ♪

♪ The ruckus, ten times ten men committing mad sin ♪

♪ Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fucking chin ♪

♪ Slaying boom‐bangs like African drums ♪

♪ We'll be coming around the mountain when I come ♪

♪ Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment ♪

♪ My clan increase like Black unemployment ♪

♪ Yeah, another one dare, took‐took a genius ♪

♪ To get us the fuck outta here ♪

‐ ♪ The Wu is too slamming for these Cold Killin' labels ♪

♪ Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel ♪

♪ Be doing artists in like Cain did Abel ♪

♪ Now they money's getting stuck ♪

♪ To the gum under the table ♪

♪ That's what you get when you misuse what I invent ♪

♪ Your empire falls and you lose every cent ♪

♪ For trying to blow up a scrub ♪

♪ Now that thought is just as bright ♪

♪ As a 20‐watt light bulb ♪

♪ Should've pumped it when I rocked it ♪

♪ Niggas so stingy, they got short arms and deep pockets ♪

♪ This goes on in some companies with majors ♪

♪ They're scared to death to pump these ♪

♪ First of all, who's your A&R? ♪

♪ A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar? ♪

♪ But he don't know the meaning of dope ♪

♪ When he's looking for a suit‐and‐tie rap ♪

♪ That's cleaner than a bar of soap ♪

♪ And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight ♪

♪ Matter of fact, bring out the girls ♪

♪ And let's have a mud fight ♪

‐ They what the fuck is goin' on, man!

It's Wu‐Tang Clan.

It's Shaolin in the fucking building, man!

Hey, let's go! Niggas goin' on!

Do that shit with me, you heard?

M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D.

Man.

‐ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D.

Man.

‐ Hold up, hold up, hold up.

Why y'all backing up, son?

I might be the only one on this song, but this our shit!

♪ Man ♪

♪ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D ♪ ♪ Man ♪

♪ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D ♪ ♪ Man ♪

♪ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D ♪ ♪ Man ♪

‐ ♪ Hey, you, get off my cloud ♪

♪ You don't know me and you don't know my style ♪

♪ Who be getting flam when they come to a jam? ♪

♪ Here I am, here I am, the Method Man ♪

♪ Patty cake, patty cake, hey, The Method Man ♪

♪ Don't eat Skippy, Jif, or Peter Pan ♪

♪ Peanut butter, 'Cause I'm not butter ♪

♪ In fact, I snap back like a rubber band ♪

♪ I be Sam, Sam I am ♪

♪ And I don't eat green eggs and ham ♪

♪ Style will hit you, wham, then goddamn ♪

♪ You be like, "Oh shit, that's the jam" ♪

♪ Turn it up now hear me get buck‐wu‐wu‐wild ♪

♪ I'm about to blow, light me up ♪

♪ Upside downside, inside, and outside ♪

♪ Hitting you from every angle ♪

♪ There's no doubt I am the one and only Method Man ♪

♪ The master of the plan wrapping shit like Saran ♪

♪ Wrap, with some of this and some of that ♪

♪ Hold up, what? ♪

♪ I thought I saw a putty tat over there ♪

♪ But I think he best to beware ♪

♪ Of the diggy dog shit right here ♪

♪ Yippy yippy yay yippy yah yippy yo ♪

♪ Like Deck said, this ain't your average flow ♪

♪ Coming like Rah ooh ah oochie kah ♪

♪ Tell me how ya like it so far, baby paw ♪

♪ The poetry's in motion coast to coast ♪

♪ And rub it on your skin like lotion ♪

♪ What's the commotion? Oh, my Lord! ♪

♪ Another corn chopped by the Wu‐Tang sword ♪

♪ "Hey, hey, hey," like Fat Albert ♪

♪ It's the Method Man, ain't no if ands about it ♪

♪ It's the Method ♪

All right, y'all, go get ya White Owls.

Get ya meth, get ya skins.

- ‐ I love you, Method Man! - Don't forget your 40.

And we gonna do it like this.

♪ I got fat bags of skunk ♪

♪ I got White Owl‐ed up ♪

♪ And I'm about to go get lifted ♪

♪ Yes, I'm about to go get lifted ♪

♪ I got myself a 40, I got myself a shorty ♪

♪ And I'm about to go and stick it ♪

♪ Yes, I'm about to go and stick it ♪

Man!

♪ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D ♪ Man!

♪ M‐E‐T‐H‐O‐D ♪ Man!

♪ Here I am, here I am, The Method Man ♪

Yeah! Make some fuckin' noise!

Hell, yeah!

‐ Hey, yo, Rie? What the hell you doing here?

Hey, yo, check this.

If anybody touches my girl in here tonight,

I'm going to jail, niggas.

- Oh! - Promise you that.

What the fuck is this nigga lookin' at?

‐ Hey, yo, fuck this shit. Come on, let's do it.

Yo!

♪ Started off on the island, AKA Shaolin ♪

♪ Niggas wilding, gunshots thrown, the phone dialing ♪

♪ Back in the days of eight, now, making a tape now ♪

♪ Rae gotta get a plate now ♪

♪ Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one ♪

♪ Till I got‐‐ ♪ Blaow! Blaow!

♪ Only felt one ♪

♪ Yeah, my pops was a fiend since 16 ♪

♪ Shooting that "That's that shit!" ♪

♪ In his bloodstream ♪

♪ That's the life of a grimey, real‐life crimey ♪

♪ If niggas know that habit's behind me ♪

♪ Day one, yo, growing all up in the ghetto ♪

♪ Now I'm a weed fiend, jetting to Palmetto ♪

♪ In Medina, yo, no doubt the God got crazy clout ♪

♪ Pushing the big joint from down South ♪

♪ So if you're filthy stacked up ♪

♪ Better watch your back and duck ♪

♪ 'Cause these fiends, they got it cracked up ♪

♪ Now my man from up North, now he got the law ♪

♪ It's solid as a rock and crazy salt ♪

♪ No jokes, I'm not playing, get his folks ♪

♪ Desert Eagle his dick and put them in a yoke ♪

♪ And to know for sure, I got reck and rip shop ♪

♪ I pointed a gat at his mother's knot ♪

Yo, Rae, don't do that shit, man!

Don't do that shit! ‐ Nah, nah, nah, fuck that!

♪ Dedicated to the winners and the losers ♪

♪ Dedicated to all Jeeps and Land Cruisers ♪

♪ Dedicated to the 5s, 850is ♪

♪ Dedicated to niggas who do drive‐bys ♪

♪ Dedicated to the Lexus and the ACs ♪

♪ Dedicated to MPVs, phat, nigga! ♪

♪ Yeah, son ♪

♪ Now, baby, yo ♪

♪ Kicking the fly clichés ♪

♪ Doing duets with Rae and A happens to make my day ♪

♪ Though I'm tired of busting off shots ♪

♪ Having to rock knots ♪

♪ Running up in spots and making shit hot ♪

♪ I'd rather flip shows ♪

♪ Instead of those hanging on my living room wall ♪

♪ My first joint and it went gold ♪

♪ I want to lamp, I want to be in the shade ♪

♪ Plus the spotlight ♪

♪ Getting my dick rode all night ♪

♪ I want to have me a phat yacht ♪

♪ And enough land to go and plant my own sess crops ♪

♪ But for now, it's just a big dream ♪

♪ 'Cause I find myself in the place ♪

♪ Where I'm last seen ♪

♪ My thoughts must be relaxed, be able to maintain ♪

♪ 'Cause times is changed and life is strange ♪

♪ The glorious days is gone, and everybody's doing bad ♪

♪ Yo, mad lives is up for grabs ♪

♪ Brothers passing away, I got to make wakes ♪

♪ Receiving all types of calls from upstate ♪

♪ Yo, I can't cope with the pressure ♪

♪ Settling for lesser ♪

♪ The God left lessons on my dresser ♪

♪ So I can bloom and blossom, find a new way ♪

♪ Continue to make more hits with Rae and A ♪

♪ Sunshine plays a major part in the daytime ♪

♪ Peace to mankind ♪

♪ Ghostface carry a black 9, nigga ♪

‐ Hold on, hold on. Y'all know what's going on.

Hey! Help me out!

Do that shit, do that shit, do it!

Do that shit, do that shit, do it!

‐ ♪ Do that shit, do that shit ♪

‐ My pussy is officially wet.

‐ Whoo, well, I'm, uh, I'm glad to hear it.

Wu‐Tang! Wu‐Tang!

‐ Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah yeah yeah!

Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang!

‐ Wu‐Tang, W‐Tang!

‐ Come and talk, my man. How you doing, shaka brah?

Know what I'm saying?

Let's start the show.

‐ Hey, yo, y'all ready for some real fucking hip‐hop!

‐ Yo, get the fuck off the stage!

‐ What the fuck you say?

‐ Go!

Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang!

Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang, Wu‐Tang!

‐ Shit!

‐ Yo, why we running from the women?

‐ Su!

We're like the fucking Beatles!

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

Hip‐hop?

Yeah, the Bronx may have created it,

but tonight, Staten Island broke the motherfucking mold.

Get on the line!