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"Biochemical Equation" lyrics by WU-TANG CLAN
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"Biochemical Equation"
[performed by RZA & MF Doom]


[RZA:]
Tempted by the sins of life, the pleasures of lust
With wild imaginings that you can't discuss
Oh, the flesh is weak, it's a struggle for peace
It's a daily conflict between man and beast
We, strive for God, and a better tomorrow
Still suffering, from the unforgettable sorrow
Repent from thy sins, son, and walk ye straight
Stop talking all that trash, boy, and talk ye straight
Evicted by the pressures of life, at every vital point
Still, I wouldn't give an oint'
Or, flinch an inch, or pinch a pinch
Off the pie, or ever try to try your winch
Confronted by the devil himself, and stayed strong
You think you can take the King, now meet Kong
Strong as the base of a mountain, there's no counting
How many MC's, have sprung from our fountain
Fifty thousand year process, to make this combination
I'm not, giving mine away to Satan
Although, I know that he's awaiting
To get ahold of my biochemical equation
I'm a slip him son, I'm a dip him, son
When I catch the drop on him, I'm a clip him, son
Fifty thousand year process, to make this combination
Ninety nine elements, biochemical manifestation
I'm not giving mines away to Satan
Although, I know that he's awaiting
I'm a slip him son, I'm a dip him, son
When I catch the drop on him, I'm a clip him, son

[MF Doom:]
Bet Aq', straight to the head with the pet rock
At least til I can get from out this booth, it's like a sweat box
Trained a few bars of head nodding, throw us a stack
Payin' men it's sewed up like glen n' bob in bonus pack
Invest in the first b-boy kid show, life on skid row, with jive talking negro's
He wear his beard like a frizzly haired grizzly
And kept his appearances exquisitely rare, where is he?
Is he in the backyard, or on your front porch
Or standing in the corner of the club, with the blunt torched
You're soft, they say he rhyme like he starving
And sold dobbs and bobkins, to old gods and goblins
Valley, adjust a pest and your worst best friend
Who mending with space time fabric like polyester blend
Not a hobby for no knobby-kneed, lesser men, Or sloppy like the rest of them, they probably need estrogen

[RZA:]
Yo, yo, drunk or sober, son, don't lose your composure
Semi off the Remy, mixed with Henny, Moet demi'
Underneath the passenger seat, son, tuck the semi'
Israeli issued, automatic black pistol
The cop with the flashlight, chewed gum as he whistled
Tapped on the glass, roll it down fast
License, registration, address to your lab
They made insurance, the reason why I pulled you over
Cause the way you were swerving, sir, you can't be sober
Have you been drinking? Breathe into the breathalyzer
Get out the car, please, follow this exercise sir,
Put one finger on your nose, now from heel to toe
Walk in a straight line, ten paces, down the road
My homeboy Kato, used to do the mashed potato
Or cartwheels, and then spin house like whirled tornado
That used to chase the light, but, son, he will always save ya
Becoming pump blows, and make beats inside my basement
Drunk or sober, never lose your composure
Stress on the brain, cause pain and stomach ulcers
If you can't understand, then come closer
We civilize the uncivilized cause we supposed to
Drunk or sober, never lose your composure
Light give your hand, black man stand as a soldier
Stress on the brain, cause pain and stomach ulcers
If you can't understand, then come closer...

[Thanks to C. Neal (mrcwneal@yahoo.com), C. Neal (mrcwneal@yahoo.com), C. Neal for correcting these lyrics]

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