Clan in da Front

[Intro: RZA]

Up from the 36 Chambers!

Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah

Heheheh, Wu-Tang

Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm

Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm

Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm

Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm

The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God

Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Masta Killa

Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher

12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin

The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet

K.D. the Down Low Recka

Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child

Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah, better known as the Yin and the Yang

The True Master, Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through

Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized

The Shaolin Soldiers

Daddy-O and Popa Ron, comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things

Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet

Thirty-six chambers of death

Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles

Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece in every fuckin' borough

Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island, and the motherfuckin' Bronx

Killa Beez

Take the sword

The sword?

Come on, give him the sword

[Chorus: GZA]

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what? (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

[Verse 1: GZA]

The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical

Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle

On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald

I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-

-ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow

'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow

And shine shine shine like gold mine

Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine

Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone!

Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones

The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique

With the game and soul of an old school flick

Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids

Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids

So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own

I'll hang your ass with this microphone

Make way for the merge of traffic

Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets

God squad that's mad hard to serve

Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves

[Chorus: GZA]

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what (Wu, wu, wu, wu)

[Verse 2: GZA]

No response while I bomb that ass

You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed

Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush

Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed

I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did

How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid

'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know

I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow

You become so Pat as my style increases

What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!

Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper

Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper

How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter

I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter

And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man

In a way he's the one who devised the plan

He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout

I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out

So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue

You can't fuck with those in the major leagues

[Chorus: GZA]

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death

Hoods on the right, wild for the night

Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death

Hoods on the right, wild for the night

Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what

[Outro: GZA]

Hoods on the right

Punks in the back… to what

Niggas on the left

Hoods on the right

Punks in the back, c'mon… to what

Let your feet stomp

Brag shit to death

Wild for the night

(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)

(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)

(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)

Niggas on the left, brag shit to death

Hoods on the right, wild for the night

Punks in the back, c’mon and attract

Clan in da front, let your feet stomp

[Produced by RZA]