WU-TANG CLAN


4th Chamber Lyrics

*sounds of fighting*
[M]- Method Man
[R]- Raekwon
[G]- Ghostface Killah
[U]- U-God

[M] Yo what I'm sayin, come on man?
[R] Yo Meth, hold up, hold up
Yo Meth, where my Killer tape at ya?
First of all, where my--
Where the f*ck is my tape at?
[M] Yo son I ain't got that peace son
[R] How you ain't go my shit,
When I let you hold it man
[M] Yo niggas came over to have 40 and blunts kid
The shit just came up missin' man
[R] Come on man, that don't got nothin to do with my shit man
Come on, go head with that shit
[M] Come on man, I'll buy you 4 more f*ckin Killah tapes man
*knock knock*
[R] Open the door man, what the f*ck, man, yo what
What's up
[G] Yo yo, God, word is bond, yo, Shymeek just got bust in his head
Two times God [word to mother]
Real life God, you know Shymeek from f*ckin 212 [yeah yeah yea]
The nigga just got bust, niggas in the Black Land, god
Word is bond, came thru God from out of nowhere, God
Word is bond, I'm comin to get my Culture Cypher, god
And it just--, word is bond, crazy shots just went the f*ck off
The nigga layin there like a f*ckin new born f*ckin baby God
[G] Is he f*ckin dead, what the f*ck you mean is he f*ckin dead god
What kind of question is that B, what the f*ck you think?
The nigga layin there with this f*ckin all types of f*ckin blood
Comin out of his--
[U] Easy, easy, easy, easy, kid
[G] Yo God, whats up God, it's the God, god, word is bond
I'm waitin to f*ckin late, i'm ready to get busy
[R] Let's go do- let's go do what we gotta do right f*ck it
[U] What's up yo, yo we out or what?
[G] It's the god ya, f*ck that
We out, got a problem man
What the f*ck
[U] Nigga still sweatin
[G] What the f*ck is you talkin about man, get the f*ck outta here
[R] Corn

(Take that motherf*cker)
{WHAT? WHAT?
GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!}
{Yeah, good morning to all you motherf*ckin notty-headed niggaz}
Word to the Camouflauge Large niggaz
(Niggaz f*ckin my body)
Bring that f*ckin meth in here
(Yo yo yo yo
Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain
and yo, set it off)

Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWN (down)
As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore
but giving you more and more, like ding!
Nah shorty, get you open like six packs
Killer Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks
Aight? I kick it like a Night Flight!
Word life, I get that ass while I'm fulla spite!
Check the method from Bedrock, cause I rock ya head to bed
Just like rockin what? Twin glocks!
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, we going to war right now
So, yo, bombin
We Usually Take All Niggaz Garments
Save ya breath before I bomb it

I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward
I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword
So how you figure that you can even f*ck with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!
And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cow
I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, Tical
The f*ck you wanna do? For this micpiece du'
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the Ginseng root
PLO style, buddha monks with the owls
So who's the f*ckin man? Meth-Tical
On the chessbox

*sounds of fighting*
"Wu-Tang style"

Yo, yeah, yo
I leave the mic in body bags, my rap style has
The force to leave you lost, like the tribe of Shabazz
Murderous material, made by a madman
It's the mic wrecker, Inspectah, bad man
From the bad lands of the killer, rap fanatic
Representing with the skill that's iller
Dare to compare, get pierced just like an ear
The Scooby Doo, I pop strictly hardware
Armed and geared cause I just broke out the prison
Charged by the system - for murderin the rhythm!
Now, lo and behold, another deadly episode
Bound to catch another f*ckin charge when I explode

Slammin a hype-ass til ya head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
Rap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrock
I ran up in spots like Fort Knox!
I'm hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logic
Flashback's how I attacked your whole project
I'm raw, I'm rugged and raw! I repeat, if I die
My seed'll be ill like me
Approachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neck
I get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex'
So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cage
Peace, I'm out, jettin like a runaway slave

Yo
Ya gettin stripped from ya garments, boy, run ya jewels
While the meth got me open like falopian tubes
I bring death to a snake when he least expect
Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck
Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig Allah, jam is fatal
Quick to stick my Wu-Tang sword right through ya navel
Suspenseful, plus bein bought through my utensil
The pencil, I break strong winds up against your
Abbott, that run up through your county like the Maverick
Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics

*sounds of fighting*
"Wu-Tang style"

Are you, uh, ah, uh
Are you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurah
The Ol' Dirty Bastard from the squad
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS!
Niggaz be gettin on my f*ckin nerves
Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they f*ckin ass to the curb
I got funky fresh, like the old specialist
A carrier, messenger, bury ya
This experience is for the whole experience
Let it be applied, and THEN DROP THAT SCIENCE

*sounds of fighting*
"Wu-Tang style"

My my my
My Clan is thick like plaster
Bust ya, slash ya
Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Masta Killa
Style jumped off and Killa, Hill-er
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manilla
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like getting smashed by a cinder block
Blaow! Now it's all over
Niggaz seein pink hearts, yellow moons
Orange stars and green clovers

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these lyrics are submitted by musixmatch2
Songwriter(s): Clifford Smith, Gary Grice, Lamont Hawkins, Dennis David Coles, Corey Woods, Jason Hunter, Robert F. Diggs, Russell T. Jones
Record Label(s): 1998 Wu Tang Records
Official lyrics by

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