Clan In Da Front (feat. RZA & GZA)

Up from the 36 Chambers! Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah Heheheh, 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 Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet K.D. the Down Low Recka Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through 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 36 chambers of death Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece And every fuckin' borough Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez "The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!" Clan in da front, let your feet stomp Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical Fuckin' with 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 'Cause the ho 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 Ballantine 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 clique 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' through with full metal jackets God squad that's mad hard to serve Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves Clan in da front, let your feet stomp Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) No 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 niggas on a stage get rushed I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid 'Cause I don't know you, 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? Ahh, human feces! Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper How you 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 In a way 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 Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu) Hoods on the right Punks in the back... to what Niggas 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) Niggas 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? Clan in da front, let your feet stomp