Wu-tang: 7th Chamber, Pt. 2 Lyrics - Wu-tang Clan

Wu-Tang Clan 

Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) 

Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber - Niggaz on the left, brag shit 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 

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 what 

This goes back to nineteen. 

Ahem, check it, yo 

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!! 

Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin notty-headed niggaz 

Word to the camoflouge large niggaz 

Bitch niggaz fuckin my body 

Bring that fuckin meth in here 

Yo yo yo yo 

Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain 

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Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked 

Then attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWN 

As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore 

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 Niggaz Garments 

Save ya breath before I bomb it 

Photos 

I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward 

I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword 

So how you figure that you can even fuck with mine? 

Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time! 

And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cow 

I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical 

The FUCK 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 fucking man? Meth-Tical 

On the chessbox 

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 fuckin charge when I explode 

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 

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 

Are you, uh, ah, uh 

Are you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurah 

The Ol' Dirty Bastard VUNDABAH 

Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists 

Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS! 

Niggaz be gettin on my fuckin nerves 

Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they fuckin 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 

My my my 

My Clan is thick like plaster 

Bust ya, slash ya 

Slit a nigga 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 

Niggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moons 

orange stars and green clovers