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deadly melody

Wu-Tang Clan (pronounced /ˈwuːtæŋ/) is a hip-hop group that consists of: RZA, GZA/Genius, Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Method Man, Inspectah Deck, U-God, and Masta Killa. They are frequently joined by fellow childhood friend Cappadonna, a quasi member of the group. They were formed in (and are associated with) the New York City borough of Staten Island (referred to by members as "Shaolin"), though Masta Killa and GZA are from Brooklyn and Inspectah Deck is from the Bronx. Read more about Wu-Tang Clan on User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License and may also be available under the GNU FDL.

deadly melody
wu tang clan
As we return, to the 36 Chambers
The RZA, the GZA, the Ol Dirty BZA
U-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah
And Meth, Rebel I soldier for the foreclosure
Don't forget about the Masta, yo

Motherfuckers halt, when my Colt, start stompin'
Thunder, strikes your land with a jolt
Your stamina level is low, like currents from
The volts of relentless punishment that multiplies

At a speed that the naked eye can't die-tect the infantry
Peep the weapon-try as I bomb atomically
Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded
By this total square mileage of violence that I brung

I've not yet begun to stung, it's the ethics
The rigorous training methods of the Abbott
Incite overseas to opposition, penetrates then infiltrates
Breakin' down your resistance, leavin' competition defenseless

Masta, Hip-hop antagonizer
Dumb deaf and blind civilizer with the silencer

Psssh, yo, pile-driver Tut boulder face blow Hulk
Anger rap book causin' chess blade smoke
Minds the trunk, punk, elephant gun poke
Jaw-breaker humanoid vice-grip, choke

Face the inferno, maestro, pull it
Pipe hard slang, bite the golden bullet
Never, sold my soul Golden Arm cold stinger
See me on the streets, address me stone bringer

Ease away, freeze back, feedback
Play out in sweet action packed rap
Bite it, stomp on a beat
Possess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas
Wu status, now, wisdom to the masses

Cock back my tongue like a hammer
My head is like a nickel-plated bammer
Spit forty-five caliber grammar
At the speed of wind makes you bleed within

Crack your skull, without penetratin' your skin
Reign of champ official, Wu scamp with black pistols
Spent the weekend programmin' fat tracks at Camp Cristal

Home on the range, rebel with a pen
Writin' critically acclaimed scriptures that do you in
Mista, Meth, Hot Nickels
Say my shit holding my Sex Pistol, deal me in

The bewilderin' killa bee quickly sting ya
I ain't gotta life one fuckin' finga
Make sure to God I reef turns on the ringer
We duckin' the subpeona
Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina

Check the 150 millimeter, heater
As it blows holes through your fuckin' speaker
Makin' you weaker creepin' inches centimeters
Fifty caliber street sweeper Shots from Shaolin
That go to Masapeaqua

Things'll never be the same, after this one
Ghostrider spit flame, lay back and twist one
Recognize the Gods came for one accord
For one mind and one cause, that's the shit Son

Play them crows out position
You might hear me but you don't listen
Competition come and get some on
Red marker still bleedin', through the paper
Of his sick premeditated, murder caper

I walk with the Shaolin strut, burn a dutch
Watch Street eat 'em up, cold crush, bumrush
Spot rusher get touched backed up handcuffed
Y'all niggaz can't fuck with us

Pass me the black velvet embassy suite killin' me
Spell it Maxi Priest caught me in the days up on Delancy Street
Stand solar, deadly vengeance with a crowbar
It's like the dreads worshipin' Jah, so ha lo ha

Pineapple crushed 850 swerve it with a rush
Plush the Canola Range spittin' off the roof, holdin' my change
Yo it's ragtime, universal 12 Monkey mind
It's like, stalkin' through your airport with a chunky nine

The undervolt Staten New York
Blood sport gun talk holdin fort back, take 'em to court
It's the burner Shaolin bound facedown you gets murdered
Roadblock shell shocked, stretched on a back block

Yo, it's warfare when you ring here, slugs fly through midair
Landin' thugs in wheelchairs from the slugfest
Keeps the iron, where the head rest for the conquest
Subway, wordplay ricochet through your projects, crime pays

Matched up in a staircase, in a dark place embraced
By the trey-eight, I'm in so deep I can't escape
These crime situations, I stay in man formation
And shot echoes through the ghetto locations y'all remain

P.L.O. slam cats like Bam Bam, Bigolo
Throw a flow like Nomo relate like Fidel Castro
I be the great all pro, hangin' MC's by they logos
My street journal reacts and blaze like an inferno

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