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

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

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

The
come on, him the sword

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

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

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

The response I bomb that ass, "You ain't shit!"
wack ass town had you gassed
Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang
Souped up niggas on a get rushed
I give a god damn, on the shows you did
How many rhymes you got, or who knows you
'cause I don't know ya therefore me what you know
I come sharp as a blade and I cut you
You so Pat as my style increases
What's that in your pants ah feces!
Throw your drawers in the hamper
Next time come strapped with a Pamper
How ya be ? You're better off a quitter
I'm on the mound G, and it's a
And my DJ the catcher, my man
he's the one who devised the plan
He throws the signs I hook up the with clout
I throw the to the mic and I strike em out
So it really doesn't matter on how you
You can't with those in the major leagues

Clan in da front, let your stomp
Niggas on the left, shit to death
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, wild for the
Punks in the back, come on and to

Hoods on the
Punks in the back, to
on the left
Hoods on the
Punks in the back, on, to what
Let your stomp
shit to death
Wild for the

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