Songtext zu 'Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber' von Wu-Tang Clan

Yo, Meth, hold up, hold up
Yo, Meth, where my Killer tape at, God?
First of all, where my
Where the fuck is my tape at?

Yo, son, I ain't got that piece, son
How you ain't got my shit when I let you hold it, man?
Yo, niggas came over to have 40s and blunts, kid
The shit just came up missin', son

Come on, man, that don't got nothin' to do with my shit, man
Come on, man, go head with that shit, man
Come on, man, I'll buy you four more fuckin' Killer tapes, man

Ayo! Ayo!
Open the door, man What the fuck, man?
Yo, what? What's up?
Yo, yo, God, word is bond, yo
Shameek just got bust in his head two times, God
Word to mother

Word life, God
You know Shameek from fuckin' 212, God?
The nigga just got bucked
Niggas in a black Land, God, word is bond
Came through, God, from out of nowhere, God
Word is bond I'm comin' to get my Culture Cipher, God
And they just
Word is bond
Crazy shots just went the fuck off, God

Niggas let off crazy shots, kid
The nigga layin' there like a fuckin' newborn fuckin' baby, God
Word up
Is he dead?
Is he fuckin' dead?
What the fuck you mean is he fuckin' dead, God?
What the fuck kind of question is that, B? Fuck you think?

Easy, easy
The nigga layin' there with his fuckin'
All types of fuckin' blood comin' out of his fuckin'
Is he is he is he dead?

Yo, God, what's up, God? It's the God, God, word is bond
Yo, what's up? I'm ready to fuckin' lay
I'm ready to get busy, God, what's up?

Yo, let's go do what we got
What's up, yo?
Yo, let's go do what we gotta do, man, fuck it
Yo, we out or what, man?
It's the God, God, fuck that, man
You sayin' we out?
They probably took the tape
What the fuck?
Nigga still sweatin' the tape, man
What the fuck is you talkin' about? Get the fuck outta here
Fuckin' corn

Good Morning Vietnam
Yeah, good morning
To all you motherfuckin' knotty-headed niggas
Word to the camouflage large niggas
Bitch, where the fuck is my bottle?
Bring that fuckin' meth in here
Yo, yo, yo
Now we gonna drink some good Night train
Yo, yo, yo, yo

Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack ya like a pit, then, lock shit down
As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore
But givin' you more and more like: Ding
Nah, shorty, get you open like six packs
Killa Beez attack, flippin' what? Murder one phat tracks, aight?
I kick it like a Nike Flight
Word life, I get that ass robbed on spite
Check the method from Bedrock, 'cause I rock your head to bed
Just like rockin' what? Twin Glocks
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, goin' to war right now
So, yo, bombin', We-Usually Take-All-Niggas-Garments
Save your breath before I vomit

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 fuck with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA Hit me with that shit one time
And pull a foul, niggas, save the beef for the cow
I'm milkin' this ho, this is my show, Tical
The fuck you wanna do on this mic piece, duke?
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root
PLO Style, buddha monks with the owls
Now, who's the fuckin' man? Meth-Tical

On the chessbox
Wu-Tang style

Yo, yeah, yo
I leave the mic in body bags
My rap style has the force to leave ya 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 Killa
rap fanatic, representin' with the skill that's iller
Dare to compare, get pierced just like your ear
The Shooby Doo-Wop 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 fuckin' charge when I explode

Slammin' a hype-ass verse till your head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
rap assassin, fast and quick to blast in hardrock
I ran up in spots like Fort Knox
I'm hot Top notch, Ghost thinks with logic
Flashbacks 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, yo, out of respect, chops to neck
I get vexed, like crashin' up a phat-ass Lex
So, clear the way Make way Yo, open the cage
Peace, I'm out, jettin' like a runaway slave

You gettin' stripped from your garments, boy, run your jewels
All the meth got me open like Fallopian 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 your navel
Suspenseful force bein' brought through my utensil
The pencil, I bring strong winds up against you
Havoc, then run through your county like the Maverick
Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics

A-a-a-ah-ah, are you a warrior, killer? Slicin' shit like a samurai?
The Ol' Dirty Bastard from the bar
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin' at your ass like a sorceress, shootin' that piss
Niggas be gettin' on my fuckin' nerves
Rhymes they be kickin' make me wanna kick they fuckin' ass to the curb
Boy got funky fresh like the Old Specialist
A carrier, messenger, bury ya
This experience is for the whole experience
Let it be applied, Unique, drop that science

My-My-My-My clan is thick like plaster, bust ya, slash ya
Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Master
Killer style jumped off in Killa Hilla
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manila
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like gettin' smashed by a cinder block
Poaw Now it's all over
Niggas seein' pink hearts, yellow moons
Orange stars and green clovers