Luyện nghe bài hát Clan In Da Front

Up the 36 Chambers
Heheh, the Ghost Face Killah

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

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

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

The
on, give him the sword

Clan in da front, let your feet
Niggas on the left, brag shit to
Now on the right, wild 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 like a
On 34th Street, in the of Herald
I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz Gerald-
Ine Ferraro, who's full of
'cause the hoe didn't win but the sun still come out tomorrow
And shine shine like gold mine
Here comes the drunk monk, with a of Ballentine
the bone, kid pass the bone
Let's get on this like Indiana Jones, the GZA
One who represent the Wu-Tang click
the game and soul, of an old school flick
Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did
Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad
So stop, the life you save may be motherfuckin' own
I'll hang your ass with microphone
Make way for the of traffic
Wu-Tang's comin' through with Full Jackets
God squad that's mad hard to
Come frontin' hard, then Goetz what he deserves

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

The response while I bomb that ass, "You shit!"
Your ass town had you gassed
Egos is somethin' the crush
Souped up on a stage get rushed
I give a god damn, on the shows you did
How many you got, or who knows you kid?
I don't know ya therefore show me what you know
I come sharp as a blade and I cut you
You become so Pat as my style
What's that in your ah human feces!
your shitty drawers in the hamper
Next come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper
How ya sound be ? You're better off a
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 I hook up the beats with clout
I the rhymes 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

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

in da front, let your 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

on the right
Punks in the back, to
Niggas on the
Hoods on the
Punks in the back, come on, to
Let feet stomp
shit to death
Wild for the

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