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 Killa Beez, we on a

The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck,
Ghost Face Killer, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Master
Raw Desire, LeVon, Cipher
Twelve O'Clock, Second Assassin, the 4th Disciple
The White
K.D. the Low Wrecka, Shyheim AKA The Rugged Child
Doo-Doo Wales, Mista Hezakiah, better as the Yin and the Yang
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 South end of things

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

The
on, give him the sword

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

The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is
Fuckin' wit my style, is of like a Miracle
On 34th Street, in the of Herald
I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz 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 mine
Here comes the drunk monk, a quart of Ballentine
Pass the bone, kid the bone
Let's get on mission like Indiana Jones, the GZA
One who represent the Wu-Tang click
With the game and soul, of an old flick
the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids
Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad
So stop, the life you may be your 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 mad hard to serve
Come hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves

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 response while I bomb that ass, "You shit!"
Your wack ass town had you
Egos is somethin' the crush
Souped up niggas on a stage get
I give a god damn, on the shows you did
How many rhymes you got, or who you kid?
'cause I don't know ya therefore me what you know
I come sharp as a blade and I cut you
You become so Pat as my increases
What's that in your pants ah feces!
your shitty drawers in the hamper
Next time strapped with a fuckin' Pamper
How ya sound be ? You're off a quitter
I'm on the G, and it's a no-hitter
And my DJ the catcher, my man
Anyway he's the one who devised the
He throws the signs I hook up the 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

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

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

on the left, brag shit to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the
Punks in the back, on and attract to
in da front, let your feet stomp