Luyện nghe bài hát Clan In Da Front

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

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

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

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

The
come on, give him the

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

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

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

The while I bomb that ass, "You ain't shit!"
wack ass town had you gassed
Egos is somethin' the crush
Souped up niggas on a get rushed
I don't a god damn, on the shows you did
How many you got, or who knows you kid?
'cause I don't know ya therefore show me you know
I come as a blade and I cut you slow
You become so Pat as my style
What's in your pants ah human feces!
your shitty drawers in the hamper
Next time come strapped with a Pamper
How ya sound be ? better off a quitter
I'm on the mound G, and it's a
And my DJ the catcher, my man
Anyway he's the one who the plan
He throws the signs I hook up the with clout
I throw the rhymes to the mic and I em out
So it doesn't matter on how you intrigue
You can't fuck with those in the leagues

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

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

Hoods on the
Punks in the back, to
on the left
Hoods on the
in the back, come on, to what
Let your stomp
Brag shit to
for the night

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