Wu-tang Clan

Wu-tang Clan - 16th Chamber (ODB Special)

rate me

16th Chamber, temple number five

Somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set

To blow a nigga up, with my Five Fingers of Death

I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand

If he frontin, on any man down with the Clan

I be comin, for that headpiece you can't cope

For my brother, I even kill a Pope, word to mother

Serial, killa, style from the Isle of Stat

My peoples are you with me where you at?

Shit's gettin deep in here, I mean like thick

Niggaz lookin all in my face like they want dick

It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo'

That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no mo'

What is it? Niggaz think they bigga

Because they got the finga on the trigga of a biscuit

They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it

With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic

Better yet a Snapple, nigga want the juice

But he don't want the hassle

Thought they trying to overthrow the castle

Better yet the temple, I'm comin to your town

Black down, the rental, car, the pistol

YAH! If you don't want a burn from glock

Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what, the buck stops

Here, no more dough will be made

Unless it's being made by who... the 1-6-Ooh

Chamber four (1-6-Ooh) Chamber four

Temple number nine, temple number nine

I'm the original G-O-D

Making young ladies scream is my specialty

when I go ooh-wah, ooh-wah, ooh-wah, girls wanna get hype

From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped

When I kill, that ol' mad rugged flow

Not sayin Ason, is like a duck of disco

Or a disco duck, I'm strictly hip hop

Yo, Ason, what's up? I can't stop...

Wu-Tanging, flipping the script and

You could test my skills, but niggaz must be trippin

Coked up from sniffin, you're the one who's riffin

I'm not Opie, save that old shit for Andy Griffith

You start to flip, now ya slip, cuz you're slippin

While you sleep I be the God on point, like Scottie Pippen

As I, jump on stage, cold flip a rip a show

Strip or rip a hoe, ready like Bo

Jackson while I'm still taxin, I'm maxin

Relaxin, sittin backs and, laying tracks and

Again and again when I rock this jam

I wanna see 'em up in the air, throw up your hand

Introducin, the one-man band

A child that's wild, now with the style, couldn't stand

Niggaz wanna jump, then stepped, to the center

Of the rhyme inventor, MC tormentor

You get jacked and slapped, across the MC map

I laugh at ya ass, on a horse shack

Come on through I black and blue your whole crew

Then I get rudie with the Hong Kong Phooey

The Ol' Dirty Bastard, MC killer

Money maker, Brooklyn, Shaolin style

That I lay down like tile

Gotta hit you up, one blaow, so you better come down...

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