6th Chamber (odb Special) Lyrics - Wu-tang Clan

[Intro: Method Man] 

16th Chamber, temple number five 

[Method Man] 

Somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set 

To blow a nigga up, with my Five Fingers of Death 

I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand 

If he frontin, on any man down with the Clan 

I be comin, for that headpiece you can't cope 

For my brother, I even kill a Pope, word to mother 

Serial, killa, style from the Isle of Stat 

My peoples are you with me where you at? 

Shit's gettin deep in here, I mean like thick 

Niggaz lookin all in my face like they want dick 

It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo' 

That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no mo' 

What is it? Niggaz think they bigga 

Because they got the finga on the trigga of a biscuit 

They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it 

With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic 

Better yet a Snapple, nigga want the juice 

But he don't want the hassle 

Thought they trying to overthrow the castle 

Better yet the temple, I'm comin to your town 

Black down, the rental, car, the pistol 

YAH! If you don't want a burn from glock 

Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what, the buck stops 

Here, no more dough will be made 

Unless it's being made by who... the 1-6-Ooh 

[Interlude: Raekwon (Method Man)] 

Chamber four (1-6-Ooh) Chamber four 

Temple number nine, temple number nine 

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[Ol' Dirty Bastard] 

I'm the original G-O-D 

Making young ladies scream is my specialty 

when I go ooh-wah, ooh-wah, ooh-wah, girls wanna get hype 

From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped 

When I kill, that ol' mad rugged flow 

Not sayin Ason, is like a duck of disco 

Or a disco duck, I'm strictly hip hop 

Yo, Ason, what's up? I can't stop... 

Wu-Tanging, flipping the script and 

You could test my skills, but niggaz must be trippin 

Coked up from sniffin, you're the one who's riffin 

I'm not Opie, save that old shit for Andy Griffith 

You start to flip, now ya slip, cuz you're slippin 

While you sleep I be the God on point, like Scottie Pippen 

As I, jump on stage, cold flip a rip a show 

Strip or rip a hoe, ready like Bo 

Jackson while I'm still taxin, I'm maxin 

Relaxin, sittin backs and, laying tracks and 

Again and again when I rock this jam 

I wanna see 'em up in the air, throw up your hand 

Introducin, the one-man band 

A child that's wild, now with the style, couldn't stand 

Niggaz wanna jump, then stepped, to the center 

Of the rhyme inventor, MC tormentor 

You get jacked and slapped, across the MC map 

I laugh at ya ass, on a horse shack 

Come on through I black and blue your whole crew 

Then I get rudie with the Hong Kong Phooey 

The Ol' Dirty Bastard, MC killer 

Money maker, Brooklyn, Shaolin style 

That I lay down like tile 

Gotta hit you up, one blaow, so you better come down... 

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