Clan in da Front

Wu-Tang Clan

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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 »


Year:
2004
144 

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Up from the 36 Chambers
Heheh, it's the Ghost Face Killah 

Wu-Tang 
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm 
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm 
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm 
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm 

The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, you-God 
Ghost Face Killer, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Master Killer 
Raw Desire, LeVon, Power Cipher 
Twelve O'Clock, Sixty Second Assassin, the 4th Disciple 
The Brand White 
K.D. the Down Low Wrecka, Shyheim AKA The Rugged Child 
Doo-Doo Wales, Mista Hezakiah, better known as the Yin and the Yang 
The Tru Masta, Asan, DJ Skane, The Tru Robocop comin' through 
Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized 
The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron 
Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things 

Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet 
Thirty-six chambers of death 
Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles 
Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome
Peace, and every fuckin' borough 
Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island 
The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez

The sword? 
come on, give him the sword

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp 
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death 
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night 
Punks in the back, come on and attract to

The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical 
Fuckin' wit my style, is sort of like a Miracle 
On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald 
I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-
Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow 
'cause the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow 
And shine shine shine like gold mine 
Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballentine 
Pass the bone, kid pass the bone 
Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the GZA 
One who just represent the Wu-Tang click 
With the game and soul, of an old school flick 
Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids 
Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids 
So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own 
I'll hang your ass with this microphone 
Make way for the merge of traffic 
Wu-Tang's comin' through with Full Metal Jackets 
God squad that's mad hard to serve 
Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves 

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp 
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death 
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night 
Punks in the back, come on and attract to

The response while I bomb that ass, "You ain't shit!" 
Your wack ass town had you gassed 
Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush 
Souped up niggas on a stage get rushed 
I don't give a god damn, on the shows you did 
How many rhymes you got, or who knows you kid? 
'cause I don't know ya therefore show me what you know 
I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow 
You become so Pat as my style increases 
What's that in your pants ah human feces! 
Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper 
Next time come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper 
How ya sound be	? You're better off a quitter 
I'm on the mound G, and it's a no-hitter 
And my DJ the catcher, he's my man 
Anyway he's the one who devised the plan 
He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout 
I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike em out 
So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue 
You can't f*ck with those in the major leagues 

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp 
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death 
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night 
Punks in the back, come on and attract to

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp 
Niggas on the left, brag shit to death 
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night 
Punks in the back, come on and attract to

Hoods on the right 
Punks in the back, to what 
Niggas on the left 
Hoods on the right 
Punks in the back, come on, to what 
Let your feet stomp 
Brag shit to death 
Wild for the night 

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death 
Hoods on the right, wild for the night 
Punks in the back, come on and attract to 
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

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Genre:

Written by: CLIFFORD SMITH, COREY WOODS, DENNIS DAVID COLES, GARY E. GRICE, JASON HUNTER, LAMONT HAWKINS, ROBERT F. DIGGS, RUSSELL T. JONES

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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