Here’s a highlight video of Georges St-Pierre choking out Michael Bisping set to ‘Protect Ya Neck’

We never knew we needed a Georges St-Pierre-Wu Tang Clan collaboration until we got a GSP-Killer Bees collaboration.

Our worlds are colliding and we couldn’t be happier. There is really nothing else left to say.

It’s fucking Georges St-Pierre. It’s fucking the Wu Tang Clan. You best Protect Ya Neck Bisping.

[Verse 1: 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
Swingin’ through your town like your neighborhood Spider-Man
So uhh, tick tock and keep tickin’
While I get you flippin’ off the shit that I’m kickin’
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 sayin’ goodbye like Tevin Campbell
Roughneck, Inspectah Deck’s on the set
The Rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal

[Verse 2: Raekwon]
The way I make the crowd go wild
Sit back, relax, won’t smile
Rae got it goin’ 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 you with 16 shots and more, I got
Goin’ to war with the meltin’ pot, akh

[Verse 3: Method Man]
It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Mef
Movin’ on your left, UH!
And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat
I wanna break, fool, cock me back
Small change, they puttin’ shame in the game
I take aim and blow the 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 “Suuu”?
Nuff respect due to the 1-6-oooh
I mean ohhh, yo, check out the flow
Like the Hudson or PCP when I’m dustin’
Niggas off, because I’m hot like sauce
The smoke from the lyrical blunt make me *cough*

[Interlude: U-God]
Ooh, what, grab my nut, get screwed
Oww, here comes my Shaolin style
True B-A-ba-B-Y-U
To my crew with a “Suuuuuuu”

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
C’mon, baby baby, c’mon, baby baby
C’mon, baby baby, c’mon

Yo, you best protect ya neck

[Verse 4: Ol Dirty Bastard]
First things first, man, you’re fuckin’ with the worst
I’ll be stickin’ pins in your head like a fuckin’ nurse
I’ll attack any nigga who 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 Zu
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 stinkin’
Ason Unique rollin’ with the night of the creeps
Niggas be rollin’ with a stash, ain’t sayin’ cash
Bite my style, I’ll bite your motherfuckin’ ass

[Verse 5: Ghostface Killah]
For cryin’ out loud, my style is wild, so book me
Not long is how long that this rhyme took me
Ejectin’ styles from my lethal weapon
My pen that rocks from here to Oregon
There’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 stompin’ 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 shootin’ star
‘Cause who I are is dim in the light of Pablo Escobar
Point-blank as I kick the square biz
There it is, you’re fuckin’ with pros, and there it goes

[Verse 6: RZA]
Yo, chill with the feedback, black, we don’t need that
It’s 10 o’clock, ho, where the fuck’s your seed at?
Feelin’ mad hostile, wearin’ Aéropostale
Flowin’ like Christ when I speaks the gospel
Stroll with the holy robe, then attack the globe
With the buck-us style, the ruckus
Ten times ten men committin’ mad sin
Turn the other cheek and I’ll break your fuckin’ chin
Slayin’ boom-bangs like African drums
(He’ll be) comin’ around the mountain when I come
Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment
My clan increase like black unemployment
Yeah, another one dare
Ju-Jugger-Genius, take us the fuck outta here

[Verse 7: GZA]
The Wu is too slammin’ for these Cold Killin’ labels
Some ain’t had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel
Be doin’ artists in like Cain did Abel
Now they money’s gettin’ 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 tryna blow up a scrub
Now that thought was 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 meanin’ of dope
When he’s lookin’ 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!

[Outro: RZA]
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck

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