wu-tang clan - wu-tang : 7th chamber part 2

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• published: 16 Aug 2008
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wu-tang clan - wu-tang : 7th chamber part 2 album version Intro: The Genius/GZA (from "Clan in Da Front") 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 what Clan in da front, let your feet stomp 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 what --- This goes back to nineteen.. Ahem, check it, yo GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!! Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin notty-headed niggaz Word to the camoflouge large niggaz Bitch niggaz fuckin my body Bring that fuckin meth in here Yo yo yo yo Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain Verse One: Raekwon the Chef Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked Then attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWN As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore but giving you more and more, like ding! Nah shorty, get you open like six packs Killer Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks A'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 bed Just like rockin what? Twin glocks! Shake the ground while my beats just break you down Raw sound, we going to war right now So, yo, bombin We Usually Take All Niggaz Garments Save ya breath before I bomb it Verse Two: Method Man I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword So 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 cow I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical The FUCK you wanna do? More than Spike Lee's Do I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root PLO style, buddha monks with the owls So who's the fucking man? Meth-Tical On the chessbox Verse Three: Inspector Deck Yo, yeah, yo I leave the mic in body bags, my rap style has The force to leave you lost, like the tribe of Shabazz Murderous material, made by a madman It's the mic wrecker, Inspector, bad man From the bad lands of the killer, rap fanatic Representing with the skill that's iller Dare to compare, get pierced just like an ear The zoo-we-do-wop-bop strictly hardware Armed and geared cause I just broke out the prison Charged by the system - for murdering the rhythm! Now, lo and behold, another deadly episode Bound to catch another fuckin charge when I explode Verse Four: Ghostface Killer Slammin a hype-ass verse til ya head burst I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that Rap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrock I ran up in spots like Fort Knox! I'm hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logic Flashback's how I attacked your whole project I'm raw, I'm rugged and raw! I repeat, if I die My seed'll be ill like me Approachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neck I get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex' So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cage Peace, I'm out, jettin like a runaway slave Verse Five: Prince Rakeem/RZA Yo Ya gettin stripped from ya garments, boy, run ya jewels While the meth got me open like falopian tubes I bring death to a snake when he least expect Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck Ruler Zig Zag, Zig-Allah jam is fatal Quick to stick my Wu-Tang sword right through ya navel Suspenseful, plus bein bought through my utensil The pencil, I break strong winds up against your Abbot, that run up through your county like the Maverick Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard Are you, uh, ah, uh Are you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurah The Ol' Dirty Bastard VUNDABAH Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS! Niggaz be gettin on my fuckin nerves Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they fuckin ass to the curb I got funky fresh, like the old specialist A carrier, messenger, bury ya This experience is for the whole experience Let it be applied, and THEN DROP THAT SCIENCE Verse Seven: Genius/GZA My my my My Clan is thick like plaster Bust ya, slash ya Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Master Killer Style jumped off and Killa, Hill-er I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manilla I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock Like getting smashed by a cinder block Blaow! Now it's all over Niggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moons orange stars and green clovers