Текст песни: Halvet + перевод

Up from the thirty six chambers

It’s the ghost

Face

Killah

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

Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher

Twelve o’clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple

The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka

Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child

Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang

The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through

Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized

The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa 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

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

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

Geraldine 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' 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

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

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 goddamn, 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 ahh 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

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

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

Hoods on the right

Punks in the back

To what

Niggaz on the left

Hoods on the right

Punks in the back

To what?

Let your feet stomp

Brag shit to death

Wild for the night

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

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