Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

 
Shaolin Sword: 

1. BRING DA RUCKUS 

2. SHAME ON A NIGGA 

3. CLAN IN DA FRONT 

4. WU-TANG: 7th CHAMBER 

5. CAN IT BE ALL SO SIMPLE 

INTERMISSION 
Wu-Tang Sword: 

6. DA MYSTERY OF CHESSBOXIN' 

7. WU-TANG CLAN AIN'T NUTHING TA F' WIT 

8. C.R.E.A.M. 

9. METHOD MAN 

10. PROTECT YA NECK 

11. TEARZ 

12. WU-TANG: 7th CHAMBER - PART II 

CONCLUSION 





Bring Da Ruckus  

Intro:  

Shaolin shadowboxing, and the Wu-Tang sword style  
If what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang  
could be dangerous  
Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?  

En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style  

Chorus: Method Man  

Bring da motherfuckin' ruckus  
bring da motherfuckin' ruckus  
bring da mother, bring da motherfuckin ruckus  
bring da motherfuckin ruckus  

Verse One: Ghostface Killer  

Ghostface, catch the blast of a hype verse  
My glock bursts, leave in a hearse, I did worse  
I come rough, tough like an elephant tusk  
Ya head rush, fly like Egyptian musk  
Aw shit, Wu-Tang Clan spark the wicks an'  
However, I master the trick just like Nixon  
Causin terror, quick damage ya whole era  
Hardrocks is locked the fuck up, or found shot  
P.L.O. style, hazardous, cause I wreck this dangerous  
I blow sparks like Waco, Texas  

Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef  

I watch my back like I'm locked down, hardcore  
Hittin sound, watch me act bugged, and tear it down  
A literate type asshole, songs goin gold, no doubt  
and you watch a corny nigga fold  
Yeah, they fake and all that  
Carryin gats but yo, my Clan  
Rollin like forty Macs  
Now ya act convinced, I guess it makes sense  
Wu-Tang, yo sewwwwwwwww, represent  
I wait for one to act up  
Now I got him backed up  
Gun to his neck now, react what?  
And that's one in the chamber  
Wu-Tang banger, 36 styles of danger  

Chorus  

Verse Three: Inspectah Deck  

I rip it hardcore, like porno-flick bitches  
I roll with groups of ghetto bastards with biscuits  
Check it, my method on the microphone's bangin  
Wu-Tang slang'll leave your headpiece hangin  
Bust this, I'm kickin like Segall, Out for Justice  
The roughness, yes, the rudeness, ruckus  
Redrum, I verbally assault with the tongue  
Murder one, my style shot ya knot like a stun-gun  
I'm hectic, I wreck it with the quickness  
Set it on the microphone, and competition get blown  
By this nasty ass nigga with my nigga, the RZA  
Charged like a bull and got pull like a trigga  
So bad, stabbin up the pad with the vocab, crab  
I scream on ya ass like your dad, bring it on...  

Chorus  

Verse Four: The Genius/GZA  

Yo, I'm more rugged than slaveman boots  
New recruits, I'm fuckin' up MC troops  
I break loops, and trample shit, while I stomp!  
A mudhole in that ass, cause I'm straight out the swamp  
Creepin up on site, now it's Fright Night  
My Wu-Tang slang is mad fuckin' dangerous  
And more deadly than the stroke of an axe  
Choppin through ya back *swish*  
Givin bystanders heart-attacks  
Niggas try to flip, tell me who is him  
I blow up his fuckin prism  
Make it a vicious act of terrorism  
You wanna bring it, so fuck it  
Come on and bring the ruckus  
And I provoke niggaz to kick buckets  
I'm wettin CREAM, I ain't wettin fame  
Who sellin gain, I'm givin out a deadly game  
It's not the Russian it's the Wu-Tang crushin  
Roulette, slip up and get fucked like Suzette  
Bring da fuckin ruckus...  

Chorus  

So bring it on...(X7)  

punk nigga!  


Shame on a Nigga  

Intro: Raekwon the Chef  

[martial arts movie sample]  
Yeah, yo, aight  
Pass the meth!  
(nizzuh nzza punk nigguh, yeah!)  
Yeah, aight  
kick the raw style, yeah  
Fly that fuckin sack  

Chorus:  

Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga  
Wu buck wild with the trigger!  
Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga  
Wu buck- I FUCK yo' ass up! What?  

(HUT ONE, HUT TWO, HUT THREE, HUT!)  

Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard, Method Man, Raekwon the Chef  

Ol' Dirty Bastard, live and uncut!  
Styles unbreakable, shatterproof  
To the young youth, ya wanna get gun?  Shoot!  
BLAOW!  How you like me now?  Don't fuck the style  
Ruthless wild!  
Do ya wanna getcha teeth knocked the FUCK out?  
Wanna get on it like that, well then shout!  

Yo RZA, yo razor!  
Hit me with the major  
The damage, my Clan understand it be flavor  
Gunnin, hummin comin atcha  
First I'm gonna getcha, once I gotcha, I gat-cha  
You could never capture the Method Man's stature  
For rhyme and for rapture, got niggaz resigning, now master  
my style?  Never!  I put the fucking buck in the wild kid, I'm terror  
Razor sharp, I sever  
the head from the shoulders, I'm better  
than my compeda, you mean competitor, whadeva!  
Let's get together  

[Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga  
 Wu buckwild with the tri-BLAOW!]  

I react so thick, I'm phat, and YO!  
Rae came blowing and blew off ya headphones black  
Rap from yo Cali to Texas  
Smoother than a Lexus, now's my turn to WRECK this  
Brothers approach and half step, but ain't heard  
HALF of it yet, and I bet you're not a fuckin vet  
So, when you see me on the real, formin like Voltron  
Remember I got deep like a baby seal!  

Chorus:  

[Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga  
 Wu buck wild with the trigger!  
 Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga  
 I'll FUCK YOUR ASS UP!]  

Verse Two: Ol Dirty Bastard  

Yo...!  
I come with that ol' loco  
Style from my vocal  
Couldn't peep it with a pair of bi-focals  
I'm no joker!  Play me as a joker  
Be on you like a house on fire!  Smoke ya!  
Crews be actin like they gangs, anyway  
Be like, "Warriors! Come out and playiyay!"  
Burn me, I get into shit, I let it out like diarrhea  
Got burnt once, but that was only gonorrhea  
Dirty, I keep shit stinks in my drawers  
So I can get fzza-funky for yah  
Murder, taste the flame of the Wu-Tang RAHH!  
Here comes the Tiger verse Crane!  
Ow, be like wild with my style  
Punk!  You playing me, chump, you get DUMPED  
WU!  Is comin THROUGH!  At a theatre near YOU!  
And get funk like a SHOE!  
What?!  


Clan in Da Front  

Intro: (list of Wu members)  

** - denotes lines of members unverified/unknown  

    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  


7th Chamber  

Intro:  

Take that motherfucker  
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  
and yo, set it off  

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 tube  
I bring death to a snake when he least expect  
Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck  
Roll a 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-Frasier 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  


Can It Be All So Simple  

Intro: Raekwon the Chef  

[Can it be that it was all so simple then]  
KnowhatI'msayin, take you on this lyrical high real quick  
Nineteen ninety three exoticness  
KnowhatI'msayin, let's get technical  
Where's your bone at, get up on that shit aight  
Yo!!  

Verse One:  

Started off on the island, AK Shaolin  
Niggaz whylin, gun shots thrown the phone dialin  
Back in the days of eight now, makin a tape now  
Rae gotta get a plate now  
Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one  
Till I got (BAM! BAM!) thrown one  
Yeah, my pops was a fiend since sixteen  
Shootin' that (that's that shit!) in his blood stream  
That's the life of a crimey, real live crimey  
If niggas know the half is behind me  
Day one, yo, growin all up in the ghetto  
Now I'm a weed fiend, jettin the Palmetto  
In Medina, yo no doubt the God got crazy clout  
Pushin the big joint from down South  
So if you're filthy stacked up  
Betta watch ya back and duck  
Cause these fiends they got it cracked up  
Now my man from up north, now he got the law  
It's solid as a rock and crazy salt  
No jokes, I'm not playin, get his folks  
Desert Eagle his dick and put 'em in a yolk (AAH!)  
And to know for sure, I got reck and rip shop  
I pointed a gat at his mother's knot  
(Yo, Rae, don't do that shit, man!  Don't do that shit! <gun shots>)  
Fuck that  

<Chorus>  
<Raekwon> Dedicated to the winners and the losers  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Ghost Face Killer> Dedicated to all jeeps and land cruisers  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Raekwon> Dedicated to the Y's, 850-I's  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Ghost Face Killer> Dedicated to niggas who do drive-bys  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Raekwon> Dedicated to the Lexus and the Ax  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Ghost Face Killer> Dedicated to MPV's phat!  
 (Can it be that it was all so simple then?)  
<Raekwon> Nigguh, yeah, yeah!  

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer  

Yo!  
Kickin the fly cliches  
Doin duets with Rae and A, happens to make my day  
Though I'm tired of bustin off shots havin to rock knots  
Runnin up in spots and makin shit hot  
I'd rather flip shows instead of those  
Hangin on my living room wall  
My first joint, and it went gold  
I want to lamp, I want to be in the shade  
Plus the spot light  
Gettin my dick rubbed all night  
I wanna have me a phat yacht  
And enough land to go and plant my own sess crops  
But for now, it just a big dream  
Cause I find myself in the place where I'm last seen  
My thoughts must be relaxed  
Be able to maintain  
Cause times is changed and life is strange  
The glorious days is gone, and everybody's doin' bad  
Yo, mad lives is up for grabs  
Brothers, passin away, I gotta make wakes  
Receivin all types of calls from upstate  
Yo, I can't cope with the pressure  
Settlin for lesser  
The god left lessons on my dresser  
So I can bloom and blossom, find a new way  
Continue to make hits with Rae and A  
Sunshine plays a major part in the daytime  
[Peace to mankind Ghostface carry a black nine, nigga  
 Word up  
 It's on like that]  

[Can it be that it was all so simple then]  


Da Mystery Of Chessboxin'  

The game of chess, is like a swordfight  
You must think first, before you move  
Wu style is immensely strong, and immune to nearly any weapon  
When it's properly used, it's almost invincible  

Verse One: U-God  

Raw imma give it to ya, with no trivia  
raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia  
my hip hop will rock and shock the nation  
like the Emancipation Proclamation  
Weak MC's approach with slang that's dead  
you might as well run into the wall and bang your head  
I'm pushin' force, my force your doubtin'  
I'm makin' devils cower to the Caucus Mountains  

Verse Two: Inspector Deck  

Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire  
rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah  
I come from the shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from  
is comin through with nuff niggaz, and nuff guns  
so if you wanna come sweatin, stressin contesting  
you'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection  
don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk  
phony niggaz are outlined in chalk  
a man vexed, is what the projects made me  
rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me  
steamrollin niggas with the eighteen wheeler  
with the drunk driver drivin, there's no survivin  

Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef  

Ruff like Timberland wear, yeah  
me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there  
peace to all the crooks, all the niggaz with bad looks  
bald heads, braids, blow this hook  
we got chrome tecs, nickel plated macs  
black axe, drug dealin'styles in phat stacks  
I only been a good nigga for a minute though  
cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo  
I got beef wit commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth  
lampin in a Lexus eatin beef  
straight up and down don't even bother  
I got fourty niggaz up in here now, who kill niggaz fathers  

Chorus: Method Man  

My peoples are you with me where you at?  
In the front, in the back killa-bees on attack  
my peoples are you with me where you at?  
Smokin meth hittin caps on the block with the gats  

Verse Four: Ol Dirty Bastard  

Here I go, deep type flow  
Jacque Cousteau could never get this low..I'm  
Cherry bombin' shits...BOOM  
just warmin up a little bit, vroom vroom  
rappinin is what's happenin  
keep the pockets stacked and then, hands clappin and  
at the party when I move my body  
gotta get up, and be somebody  
grab the microphone put strength to the bone  
DUH-DUH-DUH...enter the Wu-Tang zone  
sure enough when I rock that stuff  
huff puff?? I'm gonna catch your bluff tuff  
rough, kickin rhymes like Jim Kelly  
or Alex Haley im a Mi-..Beetle Bailey rhymes  
comin raw style, hardcore  
niggas be comin to the hip-hop store  
comin to buy grocery from me  
tryin to be a hip-hop MC  
the law, in order to enter the Wu-Tang  
you must bring the Ol Dirty Bastard type slang  
represent the Gza, Abbot, RZA, Shaquan, Inspecta Deck  
dirty hoe gettin low wit his flow  
introducin' the Ghostface Killer  
no one could get illa  

Chorus  

Verse Five: Ghost Face Killer  

Speakin of the devil psych, no it's the God, get the shit right  
mega trife, and yo I killed you in a past life  
on the mic while you was kickin that fast shit  
you renegged tried again, and got blasted  
half mastered ass style mad ruff task  
when I struck I had on Tims and a black mask  
Remember that shit? I know you don't remember jack  
That night yo I wuz hittin like a spiked bat  
and then you thought I was bugged out, and crazy  
strapped for nonsense, after me became lazy  
yo, nobody budge while I shot slugs  
Never shot thugs, I'm runnin with thugs that flood mugs  
so grab your eight plus one, start flippin and trippin  
niggas is jettin I'm lickin off son  

[Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang!!!!]  

Verse Six: Master Killer  

Homicide's illegal and death is the penalty  
What justifies the homicide, when he dies?  
In his own iniquity it's the  
Master of the Mantis Rapture comin at cha  
we have an APB on an MC Killer  
look like the work of a Master  
evidence indicates that's it's stature  
merciless like a terrorist hard to capture  
the flow changes like a chameleon  
plays like a friend, and stabs you like a dagger  
this technique attacks the immune system  
the styles like alive paralyzin the victim  
you scream, as it enters your bloodstream  
erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain  
movin on a nigga with the speed of a centipede  
and injure ANY MOTHAFUCKIN CONTENDER  

Chorus  


Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthin Ta F' Wit  

Intro: RZA  

[Tiger style]  
[Tiger style] Tiger style  
Yo, huh, huh  
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit  
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit  
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit  
There's noplace to hide once I step inside the room  
Dr. Doom, prepare for the boom  
BAM!  Aw, MAN!  I SLAM  
JAM, that's freedom like Tarzan  

Verse One:  

I be tossin, enforcin, my style is awesome  
I'm causin more Family Feud's than Richard Dawson  
And the survey said -- ya dead  
Fatal Flying Guillotine chops off your fuckin head  
MZA who was that?  Aiyyo, the Wu is back  
Makin niggaz go BO BO!, like on Super Cat  
Me fear no-one, oh no, here come  
The Wu-Tang shogun, killer to the eardrum!  

Verse Two: Inspector Deck  

I puts the needle to the groove, I gets rude  
And I'm forced to fuck it up  
My style carries like a pickup truck  
Across the clear blue yonder  
Seek the China Sea, I slam tracks like quarterbacks sacks from L.T.  
Now why try and test, the Rebel INS?  
Blessed since the birth, I earth-slam your best  
Cause I bake the cake, then take the cake  
And eat it, too, with my crew while we head state to state!  

Chorus: RZA  

And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus  
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with  
Straight from the motherfucking slums that's busted  
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with  

Interlude: RZA  

Hyah!  
Step up, boy!  
Represent!  
Chop his head off, kid!  

Verse Three: Method Man  

The Meth will come out tomorrow,  
Style, *p-zizy, p-zolz, p-zollo*  
Flow, with more afro than Rollo  
Comin to a fork in the road which way to go just follow  
Method, the Legend, niggaz is Sleepy Hollow  
In fact I'm a hard act to follow  
I dealt for dolo  
Bogart comin on through  
Niggaz is like "Oh, my God, not you!"  
Yes, I, Come to get a slice of the punk and the pie  
Rather do than die, check my  
Flava, comin from the RZA  
Which is short for the razor  
Who make me reminisce true like Deja  
Vu!  I'm rubber, niggaz is like glue  
Whatever you say rubs off me sticks to you  

[Chorus & shout outs]  


C.R.E.A.M 

Intro: Raekwon the Chef, Method Man  

What that nigga want God?  
Word up, look out for the cops [Wu-Tang five finger shit]  
(Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby  
Word up, two for fives them niggaz got garbage down the way, word up  
KnowhatI'msayin?  
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me  
 C.R.E.A.M. get...)  
Yeah, check this ol fly shit out  
Word up  
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint  
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go  
(dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this shit, yo!  

Verse One: Raekwon the Chef  

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side  
Staying alive was no jive  
At second hands, moms bounced on old men  
So then we moved to Shaolin land  
A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose  
Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot  
And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one  
And that one, pullin out gats for fun  
But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend  
Started smokin woolies at sixteen  
And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes  
Making my way on fire escapes  
No question I would speed, for cracks and weed  
The combination made my eyes bleed  
No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all  
Sticking up white boys in ball courts  
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater  
Times is ruff and tuff like leather  
Figured out I went the wrong route  
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out  
Catchin keys from across seas  
Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's  
Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine  
Ch-chick-POW!  Move from the gate now  

Chorus: Method Man  

Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me  
C.R.E.A.M.  
Get the money  
Dollar, dollar bill y'all  

Verse Two: Inspector Deck  

It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin  
Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival  
I peep at the shape of the streets  
And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep  
A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M.  
Which failed; I went to jail at the age of 15  
A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much  
Trying to get a clutch at what I could not... could not...  
The court played me short, now I face incarceration  
Pacin -- going up state's my destination  
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us  
Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff  
But as the world turns I learned life is hell  
Living in the world no different from a cell  
Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base  
Smokin bones in the staircase  
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess  
I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed  
But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth?  
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth  
Who explained working hard may help you maintain  
to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain  
We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks  
and stray shots, all on the block that stays hot  
Leave it up to me while I be living proof  
To kick the truth to the young black youth  
But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer  
And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear  
Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted  
That what?  That life is hectic  

Outro:  

Chorus -- 4X  

Niggas gots to do what they gotta do, to get a bill  
YaknowhatI'msayin?  
Cuz we can't just get by no more  
Word up, we gotta get over, straight up and down  

Chorus -- 3X  

Cash Rules Everything Around Me  
C.R.E.A.M.  
get the money  
Dolla dolla bill y'aauhhhaaaauhhhhahhhauhhhhll, YEAH  


Method Man  

Intro Part One: Method Man (album version)  

Yeahhh, torture motherfucker what?  
[Torture nigga what?]  
What?  
I'll fuckin  
I'll fuckin tie you to a fuckin bedpost  
with your ass cheeks spread out and shit  
Right?  
Put a hanger on a fuckin stove and let that shit sit there  
for like a half hour  
Take it off and stick it in your ass slow like  
Tssssssss  

[Yeah, I'll fuckin  
 Yeah I'll fuckin lay your nuts on a fuckin dresser  
 Just your nuts layin on a fuckin dresser  
 And bang them shits with a spiked fuckin bat]  
Ooooohhhh  
[Whassup?  BLAOWWW!!]  

I'll fuckin  
I'll fuckin pull your fuckin tongue out your fuckin mouth  
and stab the shit with a rusty screwdriver, BLAOWW!!  
[I'll fuckin]  

[I'll fuckin  
 I'll fuckin hang you by your fuckin dick  
 off a fuckin twelve sto-story building out this motherfucker]  

I'll fuckin  
I'll fuckin  
sew your asshole closed, and keep feedin you  
and feedin you, and feedin you, and feedin you  

Intro Part Two: Genius (all versions)  

[Yo, roll the dice, yo roll the dice  
 Yo, so it's going down like that, huh?  Yeah?  
 Niggaz is whylin, check it out kid]  

From the slums of Shaolin, Wu-Tang Clan strikes again  
The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, Raekwon the Chef  
U-God, Ghost Face Killer and the Method Man  

M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  

Verse One:  

Hey, you, get off my cloud  
You don't know me and you don't know my style  
Who be gettin flam when they come to a jam?  
Here I am here I am, the Method Man  
Patty cake patty cake hey the method man  
Don't eat Skippy, Jif or Peter Pan  
Peanut butter, cuz I'm not butter  
In fact I snap back like a rubber  
band, I be Sam Sam I am  
And I dont eat green eggs and ham  
Style will hit ya, wham!, then goddamn  
You be like oh shit that's the jam  
Turn it up now hear me get buckwu-wu-wild  
I'm about to blow light me up  
Upside downside inside and outside  
Hittin you from every angle there's no doubt  
I am, the one and only Method Man  
The master of the plan wrappin shit like Saran  
Wrap, with some of this and some of that  
Hold up (what?) I tawt I tat I putty tat  
Over there, but I think he best to beware  
Of the diggy dog shit right here  
Yippy yippy yay yippy yah yippy yo  
Like Deck said this aint your average flow  
Comin like rah ooh ah achie kah  
Tell me how ya like it so far baby paw  
The poetry's in motion coast to coast and  
Rub it on your skin like lotion  
What's the commotion, oh my lord  
Another corn chopped by the Wu-Tang sword  
Hey hey hey like Fat Albert  
It's the Method Man ain't no if ands about it  
It's the Method  

Break:  

All right, y'all get ya White Owls, get ya meth, get ya skins  
Don't forget your fourty  
And we gonna do it like this  

I got, fat bags of skunk  
I got, White Owl blunts  
And I'm about to go get lifted  
Yes I'm about to go get lifted  

I got, myself a fourty  
I got, myself a shorty  
And I'm about to go and stick it  
Yes I'm about to go and stick it  

Verse Two:  

Uhh  
H-U-F-F huff and I puff  
Blow like snow when the cold wind's blowin  
Zoom, I hit the mic like boom  
Wrote a song about it like to hear it here it goes  
Question what exactly is a panty raider  
Ill behaviour savior or major flavor  
All of the above oh yeah plus I do so  
Also flam I'm the man call me super  
Not an average Joe with an average flow  
Doing average things with average hoes  
Yo I'm super I'll make a bitch squirm  
For my, Su-per Sperm (check it)  
Check it I give it to ya raw butt naked  
I smell sess pass the Method  
Let's get lifted as I kick ballistics  
Missles and shoot game like a pistol  
Clip is loaded when I click bang dang  
A Wu-Tang slug hits your brain  
J-U-M-P jump and I thump  
Make girls rumps like pump and Humpty Hump  
Wow, the Shaolin style is all in me  
Child, the whole damn isle is callin me  
P-A-N-T-Y-R-A-I-D-E-R mad raw I don't cry  
Meaning no one can burn or toss and turn me  
Ooh I be the super sperm  
Chim chimmeny chim chim cherie  
Freak a flow and flow fancy free  
Now how many licks does it take  
For me to hit the Tootsie Roll center of a break  
Peep and don't sleep the crews mad deep Wu-Tang  
Fadin motherfuckers like bleach  
So to each and every crew  
You're clear like glass I can see right through  
You're whole damn posse be catchin em all cause you vic'd  
and ya didnt have friends to begin with  
I'm  

M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN  

Here I am, here I am, the Method Man  

Outro: RZA  

Straight from the slums of Shaolin  
Wu-Tang Killa B'z on a swarm  
[Your soul have just been taken through the 36 chambers of death, kid]  

*coughing*  
[Word to mother, Method Man signing off, peace]  


Protect Ya Neck  

Wu Tang Clan comin at ya, watch ya step kid (x8)  

Inspectah Deck:  

I smoke on the mic like smokin Joe Frazier  
the hell raiser, raisin hell with the flavor  
Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan  
swingin through your town like your neighborhood Spiderman  
So uhh, tic toc and keep tickin  
while I get ya flippin off the shit I'm kickin  
The Lone Ranger, code red, danger!  
deep in the dark with the art to rip charts apart  
the vandal, too hot to handle  
ya battle, you're sayin good bye like Tevin Campbell  
roughneck, Inspectah Deck's on the set  
the rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal  

Raekwon the Chef:  

The way I make the crowd go wild, sit back relax won't smile  
Rae got it goin on pal, call me the rap assassinator  
rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger  
and I'ma get mad deep like a threat, blow up your project  
then take all your assets  
cuz I came to shake the frame in half  
with the thoughts that bomb, shit like math!  
so if ya wanna flip go flip on the next man  
cuz I'll grab the clip and  
hit ya with 16 shots or more I got  
goin to war with the meltin pot hot  

Method Man:  

It's the Method Man for short Mr. Meth  
Movin on your left, hah!  
and set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat  
I wanna break full, cock me back  
small change, they puttin shame in the game  
I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame  
and like Fame!!, my style will live forever  
niggas crossin over, like they don't know no better  
but I do, true, can I get a "sue"  
nuff respect due to the one-six-ooh, I mean oh  
yo check out the flow like the Hudson  
or PCP when I'm dustin niggas off because I'm hot like sauce  
the smoke from the lyrical blunt makes me *cough*  

U-God:  

Ooh, what, grab my nut get schooled  
oww, here comes my Shaolin style  
sloop-b and my b-boy's U  
to my crew with the "suuue"  

chorus:  

watch ya step kid (x8)  
c'mon baby baby c'mon (x4)  
ya best protect ya neck  

Ol Dirty Bastard:  

First things first man you're fuckin with the worst  
I'll be stickin pins in your head like a fuckin nurse  
I'll attack any nigga who's slackin his mack  
come fully packed with a fat rugged stack  
shame on you when you stepped through to the Ol Dirty Bastard  
straight from the Brooklyn Zoo  
and I'll be damned if I let any man  
come to my center, you enter, the winter  
staright up and down that shit packed jam  
you can't slam, don't let me get fool on him man  
the Ol Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinkin  
Ason, Unique with the night of the creeps  
niggas be rollin with a stash  
ain't sayin cash, bite my style I'll bite your motherfuckin ass!  

Ghostface Killer:  

for cryin out loud my style is wild so book me  
Not long is how long that this rhyme took me  
ejectin styles from my lethal weapon  
my pen that rocks from here to Oregon  
here's Mordigan, catch ya like a psycho flashback  
I love gats, rappers and guns, you wouldn't bust back  
I come with shit that's all types of shapes and sounds  
and where I lounge is my stompin grounds  
I give a order to my peeps across the water  
to go and snatch up props all around the border  
and get far like a shootin star  
cuz who I are is dim in the light of Pablo Escobar  
point blank as I kick the square biz  
there it is you're fuckin with pros and there it goes  

RZA:  

Yo chill with the feedback black we don't need that  
it's ten o'clock ho, where the fuck's your seed at  
feelin mad hostile ran the apostle  
flowin like Christ when I speaks the gospel  
stroll with the holy roll then attack the globe with the buckus style  
the ruckus, 10 times 10 men committin mad sin  
turn the other cheek and I'll break your fuckin chin  
slayin boom-bangs like African drums  
comin around the mountain when I come  
crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment  
my clan increase like black unemployment  
yeah, another one dere, G-Gka-Genius  
take us the fuck outta here  

Genius:  

The Wu is too slammin for these Cold Killin labels  
some labels ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel  
be doin artists like Cain did Abel  
now they money's gettin stuck to the gum under the table  
that's what ya get when ya misuse what I invent  
your empire falls and ya lose every cent  
for tryin to blow up a scrub  
now that thought was just as bright as a 20-watt light bulb  
should of pumped it when I rocked it  
niggaz so stingy they got short arms and deep pockets  
this goes on in some companies  
with majors they're scared to death to pump these  
first of all who's your A&R  
a mountain climber who plays an electric guitar  
but he don't know the meaning of dope  
when he's lookin for a suit and tie rap  
that's cleaner than a bar of soap  
and I'm the dirtiest thing in sight  
matter of fact bring out the girls and let's have a mud fight  


Tearz  

Chorus: (sampled)  

After laughter, comes tears  

Verse One: The RZA  

Yo check yo yo, check the script  
Me and the gods get it ripped  
Blunts in the dip, forty dogs in my lip  
Had a box, 'Boom Boom' the bass will blast  
We was laughing, at all the girls that passed  
Conversation, brothers had begin to discuss  
(Hey yo, Ra, remember that kid ya bust?)  
Aw yeah, he ran, but he didn't get far  
Cause I dropped him, heh heh heh heh heh HA  
Not knowin, exactly what lied ahead  
My little brother, my mother sent him out for bread  
Get the Wonder, it's a hot day in the summer  
Didn't expect, to come across, a crazy gunner  
"Hey Shorty, check it for the bag and the dough"  
But he was brave, looked him in the eye, and said "No!!"  
Money splattered him, BOW! then he snatched the bag  
In his pockets, then he jetted up the Ave.  
Girls screamin, the noise up and down the block  
(Hey, Rakeem!) What? (Your little brother got shot!)  
I ran frantically, then I dropped down to his feet  
I saw the blood, all over, he hot concrete  
I picked him up, then I held him by his head  
His eyes shut, that's when I knew he was...  
Aw man!  How do I say goodbye?  
It's alway the good ones who have to die  
Memories in the corner of my mind  
Flashbacks, I was laughin all the time  
I taught him, all about the bees and birds  
But I wish I had a chance to sing these three words  

Chorus  

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer  

Me and my man, my ace big Moe from the shelter  
Bout to hit the skins, from this girl named Thelma  
Now Thelma had a rep, that was higher than her neck  
Every girl from Shaolin dissed her respect  
We was stimmy, you know how it is when you're blitzed  
Three o'clock in the morning, something gots to give  
Moe said he'll go first, I said I'll take next  
Here, take this raincoat, and practice safe sex  
He seemed to ignore, I said be for real  
She's not even worth it, to go raw deal  
A man's gonna do what a man's gonna do  
He got butt-naked and stuck the power U  
Twenty minutes went by, my man went out, without a doubt  
I'm not pumpin' up, I am, airin out  
Hey yo, he came out laughing with glory  
I'm surprised, he's still livin', to tell his story  
But he carried on, with the same old stuff  
with Stephanie, like a whammy, he pressed his luck  
Both tried to be down with O.P.P.  
Ain't nuttin' wrong but he got caught with the H.I.V. now  
No life to live, doc says two more years  
So after the laughter, I guess comes the tears  

<Chorus X2>  


7th Chamber (Part II)  

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 tube  
I bring death to a snake when he least expect  
Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck  
Roll a 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-Frasier 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  
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