Lyrics Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber - 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 missing, son
Come on, man, that don't got nothing to do with my shit, man
Come on, man, go head with that shit, man

Come on, man, I'll buy you four more fucking Killer tapes, man
Aiyo! Aiyo!

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 fucking 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 coming 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 laying there like a fucking newborn fucking baby, God
Word up!
Is he dead?
Is he fucking dead? What the fuck you mean is he fucking dead, God?
What the fuck kind of question is that, B? Fuck you think?

The nigga laying there with his fucking...

All types of fucking blood coming out of his fucking...

(Sarcastically) 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 fucking 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 saying we out?

They probably took the tape

What the fuck?

Nigga still sweating the tape, man

What the fuck is you talking about? Get the fuck outta here

Fucking corn

Good Morning Vietnam!

Yeah, good morning to all you motherfucking knotty-headed niggas

Yo to the camouflage large niggas

Bitch, where the fuck is my bottle?

Bring that fucking meth in here

Yo yo yo yo

Now we gonna drink some good Night train
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack you like a pit then lock shit 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
Killa Beez attack, flipping what, murder one

Fat 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 rocking what? Twin Glocks
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, going to war right now
So, yo, bombing, 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 milking this ho, this is my show, Tical

The fuck you wanna do for 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 fucking man? Meth-Tical
On the chessbox
"Wu-Tang style"
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 your ear
The Shooby Doo-Wop pop strictly hardware
Armed and geared cause I just broke out the prison
Charged by the system for murdering the rhythm
Now lo and behold another deadly episode
Bound to catch another fucking charge when I explode
Slamming 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 and 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
Approaching me, yo out of respect, chops to 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, jetting like a runaway slave
You're getting 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 being brought through my utensil
The pencil, I bring strong winds up against you
Havoc, then run up 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 slicing shit like a samurai?
The Ol' Dirty Bastard from the bar
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Coming at your ass like a sorceress, shooting that piss
Niggas be getting on my fucking nerves
Rhymes they be kicking make me wanna kick their fucking 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

M-M-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 getting smashed by a cinder block
Pow! Now it's all over
Niggas seeing pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers