Up from the thirty six chambers   It's the ghost   Face   Killah   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   Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher   Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple   The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka   Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child   Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang   The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through   Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized   The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa 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   Peace and every fuckin' borough   Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island   The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez   The sword, c'mon, give him the sword      Clan in da front, let your feet stomp   Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death   Hoods on the right, wild for the night   Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to      The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical   Fuckin' wit 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   Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow   'Cuz the hoe 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 Ballentine   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 click   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      Clan in da front, let your feet stomp   Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death   Hoods on the right, wild for the night   Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to      The 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 niggaz 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?   'Cuz I don't know ya 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 ya 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   Anyway 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      Clan in da front, let your feet stomp   Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death   Hoods on the right, wild for the night   Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to      Clan in da front, let your feet stomp   Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death   Hoods on the right, wild for the night   Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to      Hoods on the right   Punks in the back   To what   Niggaz on the left   Hoods on the right   Punks in the back   To what?   Let your feet stomp   Brag shit to death   Wild for the night   Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death   Hoods on the right, wild for the night   Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to   Clan in da front, let your feet stomp