Tonalidad: D# minor•
Verse 1
Ebm
Ab
Up from the
Ebm
36 Chambers
Db
Ebm
Heheh, it's the
Db
Ebm
Ghostface Killah
Verse 2
Wu-Tang
Ebm
Wu-Tang Killa Beez,
Ab
Db
we on a swarm
Ebm
Ebm
Db
Wu-Tang Killa Killa Beez, we on a swarm
Ebm
Wu-Tang Killa Killa Beez,
Db
we on a swarm
Ab
Wu-Tang Killa Killa Beez,
Ebm
Db
we on a swarm
Verse 3
Ab
Ebm
Db
RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard,
Ab
Ebm
Inspectah Deck, you-God
Ghostface Killah, the Method Man,
Db
Ab
Ebm
Raekwon the Chef, the Master Killer
Ab
Raw Desire, LeVon, Power
Ebm
Db
Cipher
Ebm
Db
Twelve O'Clock, Sixty Second Assassin,
Ab
the 4th Disciple
Ebm
The Brand White
Ab
Ebm
Ab
Ebm
K.D. the Down Low Wrecka, Shy
Db
heim AKA The Rugged Child
Ebm
Ab
Doo-Doo Wales, Wales, Mista Heza
Db
Ebm
Abm
kiah, better known as the Yin and the Yang
Ebm
Db
Ebm
The Tru Masta, Asan, DJ Skane,
Db
Ebm
The Tru Robocop comin' through
Db
Scientific Shabazz, my mother
Ab
Ebm
Ebm
fuckin' man Wise the Civilized
Ab
Ebm
The Shaolin Soldiers,
Db
Daddy-O and Popa Ron
Ab
Comin' down from the mother
Ebm
fuckin' South end of things
Verse 4
Killa beez all over your
Ab
Db
fuckin' planet
Ebm
Thirty-six chambers chambers
of death
Db
Three-hundred and and sixty degrees
of perfected styles
Db
Choppin' off your motherfuck
Ab
Db
Peace, and every fuckin' borough
Ebm
Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens,
Db
Ebm
Staten Island
The motherfuckin' Bronx,
killa beez
Verse 5
Ebm
The sword? come
on, give him the sword
Verse 6
Ebm
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right,
wild for the night
Punks in the back,
come on and attract to
Verse 7
Ebm
The Wu is comin' through, 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
'cause the hoe didn't win but the
sun will still come out tomorrow
And shine shine shine like gold mine
Cb
Here comes the drunk monk,
Ebm
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
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' through
with Full Metal Jackets
God squad that's mad
hard to serve
Come frontin' hard,
Cb
Ebm
then Bernhard Goet z what he deserves
Cb
Clan in da front,
Verse 8
Ebm
let your feet stomp
Niggas on the left,
brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right,
wild for the night
Cb
Punks in the back,
Ebm
come on and attract to
Verse 9
Ebm
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
crush
Souped up niggas on
a stage get rushed
Cb
I don't give a god damn,
Ebm
on the shows you did
How many rhymes you got,
or who knows you kid?
'cause I don't know ya therefore
show me what you know
Cb
Ebm
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
ah human feces
Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper
Next time come strapped
with a fuckin' Pamper
How ya sound be? You're better
off a quitter
I'm on the mound G, and it's a no-hitter
And 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
Cb
I throw the rhymes to the
Ebm
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
Verse 10
Ebm
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
Niggas on the left,
brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right,
wild for the night
Punks in the back, come on and attract to
Verse 11
Ebm
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
Niggas on the left,
brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right,
wild for the night
Punks in the back,
Verse 12
come on and attract to
Ebm
Hoods on the right
Ebm
Punks in the back, to what
Niggas on the left
Hoods on the right
Cb
Ebm
Punks in the back, come on, to what
Let your feet stomp
Brag shit to death
Interlude 1
Wild for the night
Ebm
Verse 13
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death
Ebm
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Ebm
Punks in the back, come on and attract to
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
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