Wu-tang Clan

Wu-tang Clan - Deadly Melody

rate me

<i>[Masta Killa]</i>

As we return, to the 36 Chambers

The RZA, the GZA

The Ol Dirty BZA

U-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah

And Meth, Rebel I soldier for the foreclosure

Don't forget about the Masta, yo

Motherfuckers halt, when my Colt, start stompin

Thunder, strikes your land with a jolt

Your stamina level is low, like currents from

the volts of relentless punishment that multiplies

At a speed that the naked eye can't die-tect

the infantry, peep the weapon-try as I bomb atomically

Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded

by this total square mileage of violence that I brung

I've not yet begun to stung

It's the ethics, the rigorous training methods

of the Abbott, incite overseas to opposition

Penetrates then infiltrates

Breakin down your resistance

Leavin competition defenseless, Masta

Hip-hop antagonizer, dumb deaf and blind civilizer

with the silencer


Psssh, yo

Pile-driver Tut boulder face blow Hulk

Anger rap book causin chess blade smoke

Minds the trunk, punk, elephant gun poke

Jaw-breaker humanoid vice-grip, choke

Face the inferno, maestro, pull it

Pipe hard slang, bite the golden bullet

Never, sold my soul Golden Arm cold stinger

See me on the streets address me stone bringer

Ease away, freeze back, feedback, play out in

sweet action packed rap

Bite it, stomp on a beat

Posess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas

Wu status, now, wisdom to the masses


Cock back my tongue like a hammer, my head is like

a nickel-plated bammer, spit forty-five caliber grammar

At the speed of wind makes you bleed within

Crack your skull, without penetratin your skin

Reign of champ official, Wu scamp with black pistols

Spent the weekend programmin fat tracks at Camp Cristal


Home on the range, rebel with a pen

writin critically acclaimed scriptures that do you in

Mista, Meth, Hot Nickels

Say my shit holding my Sex Pistol, deal me in


The bewilderin killa bee quickly sting ya

I ain't gotta life one fuckin finga

Make sure to God I reef turns on the ringer

We duckin the subpeona

Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina

<i>[INS]</i> Check the 150 millimeter, heater as it blows holes

<i>[duo]</i> through your fuckin speaker

<i>[U-God]</i> Makin you weaker creepin inches centimeters

<i>[GZA]</i> Fifty caliber street sweeper

Shots from Shaolin that go to Masapeaqua


Things'll never be the same, after this one

Ghostrider spit flame, lay back and twist one

Recognize the Gods came, for one accord

For one mind and one cause, that's the shit Son

Play them crows out position

You might hear me but you don't listen

Competition come and get some on

Red marker still bleedin, through the paper

of his sick premeditated, murder caper

<i>[Street Life]</i>

I walk with the Shaolin strut, burn a dutch

Watch Street eat em up, cold crush, bumrush

Spot rusher get touched backed up handcuffed

Y'all niggaz can't FUCK with us


Pass me the black velvet embassy suite killin me

Spell it Maxi Priest caught me in the days up on Delancy Street

Stand solar, deadly vengeance with a crowbar

It's like the dreads worshipin Jah, so ha-lo-ha

Pineapple crushed 850 swerve it with a rush

Plush the Canola Range spittin off the roof, holdin my change

Yo it's ragtime, universal 12 Monkey mind

It's like, stalkin through your airport <i>[*BZZZZZZT*]</i> with a chunky nine

<i>[Street Life]</i>

The undervolt Staten New York

Blood sport gun talk holdin fort back, take em to court (Method: One time)

It's the burner Shaolin bound facedown you gets murdered

Roadblock shell shocked, stretched on a back block

Yo it's warfare when you ring here, slugs fly through midair

Landin thugs in wheelchairs from the slugfest

Keeps the iron, where the head rest, for the conquest

Subway, wordplay ricochet through your projects, crime pays

Matched up in a staircase, in a dark place embraced

by the trey-eight, I'm in so deep I can't escape

These crime situations, I stay in man formation

And shot echoes through the ghetto locations y'all remain

P.L.O., slam cats like Bam Bam, Bigolo

Throw a flow like Nomo relate like Fidel Castro

I be the great all pro, hangin MC's by they logos

My street journal reacts and blaze like an inferno

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