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Wu-Tang Clan

Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  wu-tang  new york
188,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber

Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber слова песни

Intro: The Genius/GZA (from "Clan in Da Front")Niggaz on the left, brag shit to deathNow hoods on the right, wild for the nightPunks in the back, c`mon and attract to whatClan in da front, let your feet stompNiggaz on the left, brag shit to deathHoods on the right, wild for the nightPunks in the back, c`mon and attract to what---This goes back to nineteen..Ahem, check it, yoGOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin notty-headed niggazWord to the camoflouge large niggazBitch niggaz fuckin my bodyBring that fuckin meth in hereYo yo yo yoNow we gonna drink some good NightrainVerse One: Raekwon the ChefChampion gear that I rock, you get your boots knockedThen attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWNAs I come and freaks the sound, hardcorebut giving you more and more, like ding!Nah shorty, get you open like six packsKiller Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracksA`ight? I kick it like a Night Flite!Word life, I get that ass while I`m fulla spite!Check the method from Bedrock, cause I rock ya head to bedJust like rockin what? Twin glocks!Shake the ground while my beats just break you downRaw sound, we going to war right nowSo, yo, bombinWe Usually Take All Niggaz GarmentsSave ya breath before I bomb itVerse Two: Method ManI be that insane nigga from the psycho wardI`m on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang swordSo how you figure that you can even fuck with mine?Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cowI`m milkin this ho, this is MY show, ticalThe FUCK you wanna do? More than Spike Lee`s DoI`m like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng rootPLO style, buddha monks with the owlsSo who`s the fucking man? Meth-TicalOn the chessboxVerse Three: Inspector DeckYo, yeah, yoI leave the mic in body bags, my rap style hasThe force to leave you lost, like the tribe of ShabazzMurderous material, made by a madmanIt`s the mic wrecker, Inspector, bad manFrom the bad lands of the killer, rap fanaticRepresenting with the skill that`s illerDare to compare, get pierced just like an earThe zoo-we-do-wop-bop strictly hardwareArmed and geared cause I just broke out the prisonCharged by the system - for murdering the rhythm!Now, lo and behold, another deadly episodeBound to catch another fuckin charge when I explodeVerse Four: Ghostface KillerSlammin a hype-ass verse til ya head burstI ramshack dead in the track, and that`s thatRap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrockI ran up in spots like Fort Knox!I`m hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logicFlashback`s how I attacked your whole projectI`m raw, I`m rugged and raw! I repeat, if I dieMy seed`ll be ill like meApproachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neckI get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex`So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cagePeace, I`m out, jettin like a runaway slaveVerse Five: Prince Rakeem/RZAYoYa gettin stripped from ya garments, boy, run ya jewelsWhile the meth got me open like falopian tubesI bring death to a snake when he least expectAin`t a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya NeckRuler Zig Zag, Zig-Allah jam is fatalQuick to stick my Wu-Tang sword right through ya navelSuspenseful, plus bein bought through my utensilThe pencil, I break strong winds up against yourAbbot, that run up through your county like the MaverickCaps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabricsVerse Six: Ol Dirty BastardAre you, uh, ah, uhAre you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurahThe Ol` Dirty Bastard VUNDABAHOl` Dirty clan of terroristsComin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin` that PISS! Niggaz be gettin on my fuckin nervesRhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they fuckin ass to the curbI got funky fresh, like the old specialistA carrier, messenger, bury yaThis experience is for the whole experienceLet it be applied, and THEN DROP THAT SCIENCEVerse Seven: Genius/GZAMy my myMy Clan is thick like plasterBust ya, slash yaSlit a nigga back like a Dutch Master KillerStyle jumped off and Killa, Hill-erI was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier ManillaI came down with phat tracks that combine and interlockLike getting smashed by a cinder blockBlaow! Now it`s all overNiggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moonsorange stars and green clovers

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