Triumph

About Triumph

"Triumph" is a song by American hip hop group Wu-Tang Clan, from their 1997 album Wu-Tang Forever. It was released as the lead single from the album in February 1997. The song does not have a chorus, instead, solely consisting of an intro and interlude by Ol' Dirty Bastard and verses from the other eight Wu-Tang members and associate (and future member) Cappadonna. It is the only Wu-Tang song featuring all members.

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What y'all thought y'all wasn't gon' see me?
I'm the Osiris of this shit
Wu-Tang is here forever, motherfuckers
This like, this '97
Aight my niggas and my niggarettes
Let's do it like this
I'ma rub your ass in the moonshine
Let's take it back to '79

I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies and hypotheses 
Can't define how I be droppin' these mockeries
Lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred Shogun, explosion when my pen hits tremendous
Ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect view through the future see millennium
Killa Beez sold fifty gold, sixty platinum
Shackling the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets, Queen Beez ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight, incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow, swingin' swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin' live on your hottest block

As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standing firm
On foreign land, jump the gun out the frying pan
Into the fire, transform into the Ghost Rider
A six-pack and A Streetcar Named Desire
Who got my back? In the line of fire, holding back
What? My peoples if you with me, where the f*ck you at?
Niggas is strapped and they tryna twist my beer cap
It's court adjourned for the bad seed from bad sperm
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm
What the blood clot? We smoke pot, and blow spots
You wanna think twice? I think not
The Iron Lung ain't got to tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums

I twist darts from the heart, tried and true
Loot my voice on the LP
Martini on the slang rocks, certified chatterbox
Vocabulary 'Donna talking, tell your story walking
Take cover, kid, what? Run for your brother, kid
Run for your team, and your "six can't rhyme" groupies
So I can squeeze with the advantage and get wasted
My deadly notes reigns supreme
Your thought is basic compared to mine
Domino effect, arts and crafts, paragraphs contain cyanide
Take a free ride on my thought
I got the fashion catalogs for all y'all to all praise due to God

The saga continues
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet
The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat
We crush slow, flaming deluxe slow for
Judgment Day cometh, conquer, it's war
Allow us to escape Hell, globe spinning bomb
Pocket full of shells out the sky Golden Arms
Tunes spit the shitty Mortal Kombat sound
The fake false step make the blood stain the ground
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum
A death kiss catwalk, squeeze another anthem
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthesia
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas
My music Sicily, rich California smell
An axe killer adventure, paint a picture well
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin' on ginseng
Righteous wax chaperon, rotating ring king

March of the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was sober
Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare
Escape from your dragon's lair
In particular, my beats travel like a vortex
Through your spine to the top of your cerebral cortex
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream
Heart terminal like Grand Central Station
Program fat baselines on Novation
Getting drunk like I'm fucking duckin' five-year probation

War of the masses, the outcome disastrous
Many of the victim families save their ashes
A million names on walls, engraved in plaques
Those who went back received penalties for their acts
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn 
Those who stray, niggas get slayed on the song

The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds
And leaks sounds that's heard
93 million miles away from
Came one to represent the Nation
This is a gathering of the masses
That come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage
The high chief Jamel Irief takes the stage
Light is provided through sparks of energy
From the mind that travels in rhyme form
Giving sight to the blind
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum
Death only one can save self from
This relentless attack of the track spares none

Yo, yo, yo, f*ck that
Look at all these crab niggas laid back
Lampin' like them gray and black Puma's on my man's rack
Codeine was forced in your drink
You had a navy green salamander fiend
Bitches overheard you scream
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb
Blowing like Shalamar in '81
Sound convincing, thousand dollar cork-pop convention
Hands like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the f*ck up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
It's me, Black Noble Drew Ali, came in threes
We like the Genovese, sazon season these degrees
It's Earth, 93 million miles from the first
Rough turbulence, the wave burst, split the megahertz

Ayo, that's amazing
Gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk
Connect thoughts to make my man child walk
Swift notarizer, Blue-Tang, all up in the high-riser
New York Yank visor, word tranquilizer
Adjust the dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives
While, my pen blow lines ferocious
Mediterranean, see y'all, the number one draft pick
Tear down the beat, God, then delegate the God to see God
The swift chancellor, flex the white gold tarantula
Track truck diesel, play the weed God substantiala
Max mostly, undivided then slide in sickening
Guaranteed made 'em jump like Rod Strickland

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Wu-Tang Clan

The Wu-Tang Clan /ˈwuːtæŋ/ is an American rap group from Staten Island, New York that consists of RZA, GZA, Method Man, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, U-God, Masta Killa, and the late Ol' Dirty Bastard. 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 (U-God, Method Man, RZA, Ghostface Killah and Raekwon) (referred to by members as "Shaolin"), though some of their members are from Brooklyn (Ol Dirty Bastard, GZA and Masta Killa). more »

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