เนื้อเพลง Wu-Tang Sword: Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber - Part II - Wu-Tang Clan

N*ggaz on the left, brag sh*t 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
N*ggaz on the left, brag sh*t 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 motherf*ckin notty-headed n*ggaz
Word to the camoflouge large n*ggaz
B*tch n*ggaz f*ckin my body
Bring that f*ckin 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 sh*t DOWN
As I come and freaks the sound, h*rdcore
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 N*ggaz Garments
Save ya breath before I bomb it

[Verse Two: Method Man]

I be that insane n*gga 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*ck with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that sh*t one time!
And pull a foul, n*ggaz save the beef on the cow
I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical
The F*CK 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*cking 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 f*ckin 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 sh*t like a samurah
The Ol' Dirty Bastard VUNDABAH
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS!
N*ggaz be gettin on my f*ckin nerves
Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they f*ckin 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 n*gga 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
N*ggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moons
orange stars and green clovers