Deadly Melody

(альбом: Wu-Tang Forever - 1997)

[Masta Killa:]
As we return to the 36 Chambers
The RZA, the GZA, the Ol' Dirty BZA
U-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah
And Meth, Rebel I soldier for the foreclosure
Don't forget about the Masta

Yo, motherfuckers halt when my Colt start stomping
Thunder strikes your land with the jolt
Your stamina level is low like currents
From the volts of relentless punishment that multiplies
At a speed that the naked eye can't detect
The infantry, peep the weapontry as I bomb atomically
Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded
By this total square mileage of violence that I brung
I've not yet begun to stung, it's the ethics
And rigorous training methods of the Abbott
Incite oversees the opposition
Penetrates then infiltrates, breaking down your resistance
Leaving competition defenceless
Masta, hip-hop antagonizer
Dumb, deaf and blind civilizer with the silencer

[U-God:]
Piledriver Tut boulder face blow Hulk
Anger rap book causing chess blade smoke
Monster truck, punk, elephant gun poke
Jawbreaker humanoid vice grip, choke
Face the inferno, maestro pull it
Pipe hard slang, bite the golden bullet
Never sold my soul, Golden Arm cold stinger
See me on the streets, address me stone bringer
Ease away, freeze back, feedback, play out in sweet
Action packed rap, bite it, stomp on the beat
Possess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas
Wu status now, wisdom to the masses

[RZA:]
Cock back my tongue like a hammer
My head is like a nickel-plated bammer
Spit .45 caliber grammar
At the speed of wind makes you bleed within
Crack your skull without penetrating your skin
Reign of champ official, Wu stamp with black pistols
Spent the weekend programming fat tracks at Camp Crystal

[Method Man:]
Home on the range, rebel with a pen
Writing critically acclaimed scriptures that do you in
Mr. Mef, Hot Nickels
Say my shit holding my sex pistol, deal me in

[RZA:]
The bewildering Killa Bee quickly sting ya
I ain't gotta lift one fucking finger
Make sure the God Irief turns on the ringer
We ducking the subpoena
Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina

[Masta Killa, (U-God) {GZA}:]
Check the 150 millimeter heater
As it blows holes through your fucking speaker
(Making you weaker, creeping, inches, centimeters)
{Fifty caliber street sweeper}
{Shots from Shaolin that go to Massapequa}

[Method Man:]
Things'll never be the same after this one
Ghost Rider spit flame, lay back and twist one
Recognize the Gods came for one accord
One mind and one common cause, that's the shit, son
Play them crows out position
You might hear me but you don't listen
Competition come and get some on
Red marker still bleeding through the paper
Of his sick premeditated murder caper

[StreetLife:]
I walk with the Shaolin strut, burn a dutch
Watch Street eat 'em up, Cold Crush bum rush
Spot rushers get touched, bagged up, handcuffed
Y'all niggas can't fuck with us! (Fuck with us!)
(Ahhh!! Ahhhhh!)

[Ghostface Killah:]
Pass me the Black Velvet, embassy suite, killing me
Spell it, Maxi Priest caught me in a daze up on Delancey Street
Stand solar, deadly vengeance with a crowbar
It's like the dreads worshiping Jah, so Aloha
Pineapple crush, 850 swerve it with a rush
Plush the Canola Range spitting off the roof, holding my change
Yo, it's ragtime, universal 12 Monkey mind
It's like stalking through your airport with a chunky .9

[StreetLife:]
The underboss Staten New York
Bloodsport gun talk holding fort back, take 'em to court (One time)
It's the burner Shaolin bound, face down, you gets murdered
Roadblock, shell shocked, stretched on a back block
Yo, it's warfare when you ring here, slugs fly through mid-air
Landing thugs in wheelchairs from the slugfest
Keeps the iron where the head rest, for the conquest subway
Wordplay ricochet through your projects, crime pays
Matched up in a staircase in a dark place embraced
By the trey-eight, I'm in so deep I can't escape
These crime situations, I stay in man formation
If shot echoes through the ghetto locations
I remain P.L.O., slam cats like Bam Bam Bigelow
Throw a flow like Nomo, relate like Fidel Castro
I be the great all pro, hanging MC's by they logos
My street journal reacts and blaze like an inferno