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Wu-tang Clan - Wu-Tang 7th Chamber Part II - текст песни, видео

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Wu-tang Clan - Wu-Tang 7th Chamber Part II - текст песни, видео

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Новый альбом группы 'Черный Кузнец' по культовому сериалу 'Сверхъестественное'!
Авторы: Lamont Hawkins, Jason Hunter, Dennis Coles, Robert Diggs, Jr., Gary Grice, Clifford Smith, Russell Jones, Corey Woods

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
 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

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]

 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

[Verse Two: Method Man]

 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

[Verse Three: Inspector Deck]

 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

[Verse Four: Ghostface Killer]

 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

[Verse Five: Prince Rakeem/RZA]

 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

[Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard]

 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

[Verse Seven: Genius/GZA]

 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
Добавлено: 01.01.2014
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