Wu-Tang Clan
Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
Clan In Da Front
[Genius/GZA]
Clan in da front, letcha feet stomp
Niggas on the left, rags ya to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on in the track to what?
The Wu is comin through, the outcome is critical
Fuckin with my style is sorta like a miracle
On 34th street in the square I'm herald I gain Ella
The bitch caught her fits like Darryl
D for robber, who's full of sorrow
Plus the ho didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow
And shine shine shine like Old Nine
Here comes the drunk monk with a quart of Ballatine
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
Courtney went to Cooleyhigh 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 through with full metal jackets
God squad that's mad hard to serve
Come frontin hard, then Bernhard gets what he deserve
Clan in da front, letcha feet stomp
Niggas on the left, rags ya to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on in the track to what?
The response while I bomb that ass
You ain't shit, your wack-assed town had ya gassed
Egos are somethin the Wu-Tang crush
Two tough niggas on the 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
Cause I don't know ya therefore show me whatcha know
I come sharp as a blade and I cut'cha slow
You become so hexed as my style increases
What's that in your pants? Aww, human feces!!
Throw your shitty drawers in a hamper
Next time come strapped with a fuckin Pamper
I gets sound be, 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
In a way he's the one who devised the plan
He throws the signs, I hook up the beat with clout
I throw the rhymes through 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
Clan in da front, letcha feet stomp
Niggas on the left, rags ya to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on in the track to what?
Clan in da front, letcha feet stomp
Niggas on the left, rags ya to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on in the track to what?
Hoods on the right
Punks in the back... to what?
Niggas on the left
Hoods on the right
Punks in the back, come... to what?
Letcha feet stomp
Rags ya to death
Wild for the night
Niggas on the left, rags ya to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on in the track to what?
Clan in da front, letcha feet stomp
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