Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber

(album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) - 1993)

[Raekwon:]
Yo, Meth, hold up, hold up
Yo, Meth, where my Killer tape at, God?
First of all, where my
Where the fuck is my tape at?

[Method Man:]
Yo, son, I ain't got that piece, son

[Raekwon:]
How you ain't got my shit when I let you hold it, man?

[Method Man:]
Yo, niggas came over to have 40s and blunts, kid
The shit just came up missing, son

[Raekwon:]
Come on, man, that don't got nothing to do with my shit, man
Come on, man, go head with that shit, man

[Method Man:]
Come on, man, I'll buy you four more fucking Killer tapes, man

[U-God:]
Ayo! Ayo!

[Raekwon:]
Open the door, man! What the fuck, man?
Yo, what? What's up?

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, yo, God, word is bond, yo
Shameek just got bust in his head two times, God!

[U-God:]
Word to mother!

[Ghostface Killah:]
Word life, God
You know Shameek from fucking 212, God?
The nigga just got bucked
Niggas in a black Land, God, word is bond
Came through, God, from out of nowhere, God
Word is bond I'm coming to get my Culture Cipher, God
And they just... word is bond
Crazy shots just went the fuck off, God

[U-God:]
Niggas let off crazy shots, kid

[Ghost:]
The nigga laying there like a fucking newborn fucking baby, God

[U-God:]
Word up!

[Meth:]
Is he dead?

[Ghost:]
Is he fucking dead?
What the fuck you mean is he fucking dead, God?

[U-God:]
What the fuck kind of question is that, B? Fuck you think?

[RZA:]
Easy, easy

[Ghost:]
The nigga laying there with his fucking
All types of fucking blood coming out of his fucking

[U-God:]
(Sarcastically) Is he is he is he dead?

[Ghost:]
Yo, God, what's up, God? It's the God, God, word is bond
Yo, what's up? I'm ready to fucking lay
I'm ready to get busy, God, what's up?

[Rae:]
Yo, let's go do what we got

[U-God:]
What's up, yo?

[Rae:]
Yo let's go do what we gotta do, man, fuck it

[U-God:]
Yo, we out or what, man?

[Ghost:]
It's the God, God, fuck that, man

[U-God:]
You saying we out?

[Meth:]
They probably took the tape

[Ghost:]
What the fuck?

[Rae:]
Nigga still sweating the tape, man

[Ghost:]
What the fuck is you talking about? Get the fuck outta here!

[Rae:]
Fucking corn!

[Wu-Tang Clan:]
Good Morning Vietnam!
Yeah, good morning
To all you motherfucking knotty-headed niggas
Word to the camouflage large niggas
Bitch, where the fuck is my bottle?
Bring that fucking meth in here!
Yo, yo, yo
Now we gonna drink some good Night train
Yo, yo, yo, yo!

[Raekwon:]
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack ya like a pit, then, 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
Killa Beez attack, flipping what? Murder one phat tracks, aight?
I kick it like a Nike Flight
Word life, I get that ass robbed on spite
Check the method from Bedrock, 'cause I rock your head to bed
Just like rocking what? Twin Glocks!
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, going to war right now
So, yo, bombing, We-Usually Take-All-Niggas-Garments
Save your breath before I vomit

[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, niggas, save the beef for the cow
I'm milking this ho, this is my show, Tical!
The fuck you wanna do on this mic piece, duke?
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root
PLO Style, Buddha monks with the owls
Now, who's the fucking man? Meth-Tical

[Method Man (Inspectah Deck):]
On the chessbox
"Wu-Tang style"

[Inspectah Deck:]
Yo, yeah, yo
I leave the mic in body bags
My rap style has the force to leave ya lost like the Tribe of Shabazz
Murderous material made by a madman
It's the mic wrecker, Inspectah, bad man
From the bad lands of the Killa
Rap fanatic, representing with the skill that's iller
Dare to compare, get pierced just like your ear
The Shooby Doo-Wop pop, 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 fucking charge when I explode!

[Ghostface Killah:]
Slamming a hype-ass verse 'til your head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
Rap assassin, fast and quick to blast in hardrock
I ran up in spots like Fort Knox
I'm hot! Top notch, Ghost thinks with logic
Flashbacks 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
Approaching me, yo, out of respect, chops to 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, jetting like a runaway slave

[RZA:]
You getting stripped from your garments, boy, run your jewels
All the meth got me open like Fallopian 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 your navel
Suspenseful force being brought through my utensil
The pencil, I bring strong winds up against you
Havoc, then run through your county like the Maverick
Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics

[Ol' Dirty Bastard:]
A-a-a-ah-ah, are you a warrior, killer? Slicing shit like a samurai?
The Ol' Dirty Bastard from the bar!
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Coming at your ass like a sorceress, shooting that piss
Niggas be getting on my fucking nerves
Rhymes they be kicking make me wanna kick they fucking ass to the curb
Boy got funky fresh like the Old Specialist
A carrier, messenger, bury ya
This experience is for the whole experience
Let it be applied, Unique, drop that science!

[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 in Killa Hilla
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manila
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like getting smashed by a cinder block
Poaw! Now it's all over
Niggas seeing pink hearts, yellow moons
Orange stars and green clovers