When rap music was coming into the world, they were children peeking their heads out of their bedroom windows and running down the stoops of the Brooklyn and Staten Island projects that were their homes to listen to some of the game’s early greats beatbox and freestyle right on the street. The pavement was the stage, and the crowds surrounding them were in awe—including the nine boys who would eventually make up one of the greatest rap groups in history.

Gathered in a hotel suite high above the tourists taking carriage rides through Central Park South—a short distance but a world away from the neighborhoods they came from—RZA, GZA, Cappadonna, U-God, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck, and Masta Killa spoke with VICE about the docuseries and the group’s seemingly impossible rise to success. Joining them was Young Dirty Bastard (son of the late Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who performs with the group in his father’s place) and director Sacha Jenkins, who Cappadonna credits for “the celebration of our legacy being broadcast to the world.”

“We was waiting for it. It was time,” Cappadonna told me while tearing into a breakfast plate of eggs, waffles, and sausage. “It was perfect timing for us to get out there, put our story out after 25 years. That gave us enough footage. Enough motivational energy.”

Following the recent success of music biopics like Straight Outta Compton and Bohemian Rhapsody (and if you go back a bit further, Notorious, 8 Mile, and Get Rich or Die Trying), a thoughtful telling of the story of Wu-Tang Clan felt not just timely, but long overdue. A scripted series about the group is also on the way from Hulu.

The Wu's ascension into icon status is documented in Showtime’s four-part documentary series Wu-Tang Clan: Of Mics and Men. The series, premiering May 10, explores the group’s landmark 25-year career, the indelible mark they’ve made in the global cultural landscape, and each member’s individual trajectory. Through their immense talent, RZA's vision, and their collective hustle, the Wu overcame the crack epidemic, poverty, endless violence, extreme racism, and an oppressive, segregated system that disenfranchises Black men, and came out on the other side to see millions the world over chant “Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuthing ta fuck wit.”

"A lot of people know a lot about Wu-Tang through the music, but this was like another level of education," said Masta Killa. "Even for us as being members of the group, you know what I’m saying? Because through the film, I’m learning about things about my brother that I never knew."

"Wu-Tang was very private about a lot of our lives. I think we feel evolved enough and [are] mature enough at this age that we gotta let our story be known. It can’t be a secret," said RZA. "It gotta be like, 'Listen, people, if you look up to us and our music and you think we’ve done something to help change the world creatively, well, look at our path. Look at that, for real.' And we’re doing it. Of Mics and Men does that."

In the first episode, the living members of Wu-Tang sit together in the red velvet seats of Staten Island's beautifully ornate St. George Theater, where Raekwon recalls watching The Wizard of Oz as a kid. They peer up at the silver screen on which grainy home videos of their early days play, taking them back to the messy bedrooms and living rooms where they'd smoke weed and practice the rhymes that have since become canon. Like brothers, they laugh and struggle to remember who gets credit for introducing everyone to the old kung fu movies that inspired their group's identity.

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"It’s a mind-blowing experience [seeing your home movies on screen]. That little picture over there"—says U-God, pointing at a photo in a collage for the docuseries' poster—"I was looking at that picture. That’s the Oooh building [referring to the Park Hill project he lived in]. I definitely spilled blood and scraped my knees on that damn building. [The series] is definitely going to tell you the real story behind us. We came from the streets for real, man. We came from the hood. We represent the Black men from the ghettos across America, and let them know that you can make it out. We live the same life y’all live and you can be successful … Our story is everybody’s story. I hope they embrace it, because it’s a real crazy story. It had to be fucking told after all these years."