Wu-Tang Clan - Clan In Da Front

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• published: 29 Aug 2011
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Album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) Year: 1993 Track: 3 Track Produced By: RZA Samples: "Synthetic Substitution" as performed by Melvin Bliss & "Honey Bee" as performed by New Birth, written by Anne Bogan, Doug Edwards, Harvey Fuqua and Dennis Walker Lyrics: [Intro: RZA] Up from the 36 Chambers... Heheh.. it's the Ghost..(Face)..(Killahh) Hehheheh Wu-Tang Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God Ghost Face Killer, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Master Killer Raw Desire, LeVon, Power Cipher Twelve O'Clock, Sixty Second Assassin, the 4th Disciple The Brand White K.D. the Down Low Wrecka, Shyheim AKA The Rugged Child Doo-Doo Wales, Mista Hezakiah -- better known as the Yin and the Yang The Tru Masta, Asan, DJ Skane, The Tru Robocop comin thru Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin man Wise the Civilized The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron Comin down from the motherfuckin South end of things Killa beez all over your fuckin planet Thirty-six chambers of death Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles Choppin off your motherfuckin dome... ...peace, and every fuckin borough Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island The motherfuckin Bronx, killa beez.... (The sword? C'mon, give him the sword) [Chorus: The Genius] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death Now hoods on the right, wild for the night Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to... [Verse One:] The Wu is comin thru, the outcome is critical Fuckin wit my style, is sort of like a Miracle on 34th Street, in the Square of Herald I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald -- -- ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow and shine shine shine like gold mine Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballentine Pass the bone, kid pass the bone Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the GZA One who just represent the Wu-Tang click With the game and soul, of an old school flick Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids so stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin own I'll hang your ass with this microphone Make way for the merge of traffic Wu-Tang's comin thru with Full Metal Jackets God squad that's mad hard to serve Come frontin hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves [Chorus] [Verse Two:] The response while I bomb that ass, "You ain't shit!" Your wack ass town had you gassed Egos is somethin the Wu-Tang crush Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed I don't give a god damn, on the shows you did How many rhymes you got, or who knows you kid? Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow You become so Pat as my style increases What's that in your pants ahhh human feces! Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper Next time come strapped with a fuckin Pamper How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter I'm on the mound G, and it's a no-hitter And my DJ the catcher, he's my man Anyway he's the one who devised the plan He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike em out So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue You can't FUCK with those in the major leagues [Chorus - 2X] Hoods on the right Punks in the back... to what Niggaz on the left Hoods on the right Punks in the back, c'mon... to what ...let your feet stomp ...brag shit to death ...wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death Hoods on the right, wild for the night Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to Clan in da front, let your feet stomp