Luyện nghe bài hát Clan In Da Front

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

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

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

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

The
come on, give him the

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

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

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

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

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

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

on the right
Punks in the back, to
Niggas on the
Hoods on the
Punks in the back, on, to what
Let your stomp
Brag 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 feet