Wu-tang Clan - Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber - Part II lyrics

Intro: The Genius/GZA (from "Clan in Da Front") n***az on the left, brag sh** to d**h 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 n***az on the left, brag sh** to d**h 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 motherf**in notty-headed n***az Word to the camoflouge large n***az b**h n***az f**in my body (where the fu*k is my bottle) Bring that f**in meth in here (Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain) Yo yo yo yo Verse One: Raekwon the Chef Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked Then attack you like a pit that lock sh** 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 k**er Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks A'ight? I kick it like a Night Flite! Word life, I get that a** 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 n***az Garments Save ya breath before I bomb it Verse Two: Method Man I be that insane n***a from the psycho ward I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword So how you figure that you can even f** with mine? Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that sh** one time! And pull a foul, n***az save the beef on the cow I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical The fu*k 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 f**ing 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 k**er, rap fanatic Representing with the sk** 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 f**in charge when I explode Verse Four: Ghostface k**er Slammin a hype-a** verse til ya head burst I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that Rap a**a**in, 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-a** 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 j**els While the meth got me open like falopian tubes I bring d**h 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 ba*tard Are you, uh, ah, uh Are you a warrior? k**er? Slicin sh** like a samurah The Ol' Dirty ba*tard VUNDABAH Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists Comin atcha a** like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS! n***az be gettin on my f**in nerves Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they f**in a** 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 n***a back like a Dutch Master k**er Style jumped off and k**a, 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 n***az seeing pink hearts, yellow moons orange stars and green clovers