Luyện nghe bài hát Kiss The Ring

[**feat. Inspectah Deck & Masta
[Intro: w/ various others in background (Inspectah Deck)~]
Suga, come here, man, tell ya man
He better bring that fucking here tomorrow, man
You, walk up in the with me, man
It's all real, yo, up son?
Yo, hold the bottle, your night, nigga!
your night! *bottles popping*
Yeah, mad bottles! Playboy! We out of here, man
(Step inside, kiss the ring --- so salute, and toast to the best who it)
it up for the Wu-Tang Clan!}
[Chorus (2x): Deck~]
When I step inside, the ring, Wu Familia
La Nostra, it's our thing
So salute, and toast to the best who it
rap shit, I spit, for the vets who love it

By the time you read letter
head gon' fly off your shoulder for lying
And be in bed like holders
Blood from a on your spread, you tried to play me now
I'm coughing up, dough on your head, you a baby
See me in the flick as a Rick, I had to with me
All niggas stay in the 90's, getting rich
Rick Ruler robe on with rings, to the throne
Fronting like I know I'm the king, I live alone
Buying up, China's Beemers, taking it to Simon's in
Only to blind you and leave ya
young boys is crafted with aim, I bought 'em all
Fly ranches, cuz they all stand me with flames
Regardless, yo, to making the classic, you gon' witness of the tactics
died, live in the action
A live when he walk, if he died, then we slide
Ninety thou' in the coffin, and take the
[Repeat
Deck:]
Black Jesus, check my walk, my talk
in the flesh and I rep New York
Crowned king, been to bang, I'm House Gang
Knockout specialist, in and out the
Got dinner tables long as with old kitchens
And Wu-Tang splashed on all the dishes
You how I speaks the truth, how I teach the youth
I'm an animal, I beast the
Been grinding, out for food to eat
Your boy eating good, check my new physique
Since the world is mine, I'mma my name on the clouds
So ol' yee faithful, can praise it and bow
Killa:]
Now he's an old Mafia don, from when
He managed to survive the game, fame
It's how he maintained, the State of Grace, his lab laced
Ladies of a taste, kept his place guarded
While the young charted, acquitted, all charges
And his heart loss and, marksmen the contract
From the contact, waiting for the right event, it all sense
He left no on the weapon, and he was blasting
Came home from stashing, still stacking
His whip still his kit, steel flashing
Hands quick, with his shit, three holy foods
Drops jewels, from a street level, young brother, I'mma rebel
Here to instruct private soldiers to arms
Ya'll rap cats had your last win, toast the
It's Wu-Tang, it's our thing, kiss the
Chorus:] (2x)