Luyện nghe bài hát Clan In Da Front

Up from the 36
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
Twelve O'Clock, Second Assassin, the 4th Disciple
The Brand
K.D. the Down Low Wrecka, AKA The Rugged 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 motherfuckin' man Wise the
The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Ron
Comin' from the motherfuckin' South end of things

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

The
come on, him the sword

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

The Wu is through, the outcome is critical
Fuckin' wit my style, is sort of like a
On Street, in the Square of Herald
I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like
Ine Ferraro, full of sorrow
'cause the hoe win but the sun will still come out tomorrow
And shine shine shine like mine
Here comes the monk, with a quart of Ballentine
the bone, kid pass the bone
Let's get on this mission like Jones, the GZA
One who represent the Wu-Tang click
With the game and soul, of an old school
Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did
Claudine to Cooley High and had mad kids
So stop, the life you save may be motherfuckin' own
hang your ass with this microphone
Make way for the of traffic
Wu-Tang's comin' through with Metal Jackets
God that's mad hard to serve
Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz he deserves

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, come on and to

The response while I bomb that ass, "You shit!"
Your ass town had you gassed
Egos is somethin' the crush
up niggas on a stage get rushed
I give a god damn, on the shows you did
How many you got, or who knows you kid?
'cause I don't ya therefore show me what you know
I come sharp as a and I cut you slow
You become so Pat as my style
What's that in your pants ah 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 a no-hitter
And my DJ the catcher, my man
he's the one who devised the plan
He the signs 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 with those in the major leagues

Clan in da front, let your stomp
Niggas on the left, brag to death
Now hoods on the right, wild for the
in the back, come 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, come on, to
Let feet stomp
Brag shit to
Wild for the

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