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Wu-Tang Clan - Da Mystery Of Chessboxin`

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Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

The game of chess is like a sword fight. You must think first
before you move.

Wu style is immensely stron`, and immune to nearly any weapon.

When it`s properly used, it`s almost invincible.

Verse One: U-God

Raw imma give it to ya, with no trivia

raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia.

My hip hop will rock and shock the nation

like the Emancipation Proclamation.

Weak MC`s approach with slang that`s dead

You might as well run into the wall and bang your head.

I`m pushin` force; my force you`re doubtin`.

I`m makin` devils cower to the Caucus Mountains

Verse Two: Inspector Deck

Well I`m Messiah. I set the microphone on fire.

Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah.

I come from the shaolin slum, and the isle I`m from

Is comin through with nuff niggaz, and nuff guns.

So if you wanna come sweatin, stressin contesting

You`ll catch a sharp sword to the midsection.

Don`t talk the talk, if you can`t walk the walk.

Phony niggaz are outlined in chalk.

I`m mad vexed, that`s what the projects made me.

Rebel to the grain, there`s no way to barricade me.

Steamrollin niggas like a 18 wheeler;

with the drunk driver drivin, there`s no survivin.

Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef

Ruff like Timberland wear, yeah,

me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there,

peace to all the crooks, all the niggaz with bad looks

bald heads, braids, blow this hook.

We got chrome Techs, nickel plated Macs

Black Acs, drug dealin`styles in fat stacks.

I only been a good nigga for a minute though,

cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo.

I got beef wit commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth

Lampin in a Lexus seat, and B.

Straight up and down don`t even bother

I got forty niggaz up in here now who kill niggaz fathers.

Chorus: Method Man

My peoples are you with me where you at?

In the front, in the back killa-bees on attack.

My peoples are you with me where you at?

Smokin meth, hittin cats on the block with the gats.

Verse Four: Ol Dirty Bastard

Here I go, deep type flow.

Jacque Cousteau could never get this low.

I`m cherry bombin` shits...BOOM

Just warmin up a little bit, vroom vroom

Rappinin is what`s happenin.

Keep the pockets stacked and then hands clappin and

at the party when I move my body

gotta get up, and be somebody.

Grab the microphone. Put strength to the bone.

DUH-DUH-DUH...enter the Wu-Tang zone.

Sure enough when I rock that stuff

huff puff. I`m gonna catch your bluff tuff.

Rough, kickin rhymes like Jim Kelly

or Alex Haley im a Mi-..Beetle Bailey rhymes.

Comin raw style, hardcore

Niggas be comin to the hip-hop store.

Comin to buy grocery from me,

Tryin to be a hip-hop MC.

The law, in order to enter the Wu-Tang

You must bring the Ol Dirty Bastard type slang.

Represent the GZA, Abbot, RZA, Raekwan, Inspecta Deck .

Dirty hoe gettin low wit his flow.

Introducin` the Ghostface Killer.

No one could get illa.

Chorus

Verse Five: Ghost Face Killer

Speakin of the devil, syke, no it`s the God, get the shit right.

Mega trife, and yo, I killed you in a past life.

On the mic while you was kickin that fast shit

you renegged, tried again, and got blasted.

Half mastered ass style, mad ruff task,

When I struck I had on Tims and a black mask.

Remember that shit? I know you don`t remember jack.

That night,yo I wuz sitting like a spiked bat,

and then you thought I was bugged out and crazy,

Strapped for nonsense. After me became lazy.

Yo, nobody budge while I shot slugs.

Never shot duds, I`m runnin with thugs that flood mugs,

So grab your eight plus one, start flippin and trippin

niggas is jettin I`m lickin off son.

[Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang!!!!]

Verse Six: Master Killer

Homicide`s illegal and death is the penalty.

What justifies the homicide, when he dies?

In his own iniquity it`s the

Master of the Mantis Rapture comin at cha.

We have an APB on an MC Killer.

Look like the work of a Master.

Evidence indicates that`s it`s stature

Merciless like a terrorist hard to capture.

The flow changes like a chameleon,

Plays like a friend, and stabs you like a dagger.

This technique attacks the immune system.

Disguised like a lie paralyzin the victim,

You scream, as it enters your bloodstream,

Erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain,

Movin on a nigga with the speed of a centipede

and injure ANY MOTHAFUCKIN CONTENDERS

Chorus

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