Текст песни 16th Chamber (O.D.B. Special) - Wu-Tang Clan
[Intro:
Method
Man]
16th
Chamber,
temple
number
five
[Method
Man]
Somebody
said
it′s
on,
if
it
is
then
I'll
be
set
To
blow
a
nigga
up,
with
my
Five
Fingers
of
Death
I
bring
it
to
his
whole
damn
fam,
understand
If
he
frontin,
on
any
man
down
with
the
Clan
I
be
comin,
for
that
headpiece
you
can′t
cope
For
my
brother,
I
even
kill
a
Pope,
word
to
mother
Serial,
killa,
style
from
the
Isle
of
Stat
My
peoples
are
you
with
me
where
you
at?
Shit's
gettin
deep
in
here,
I
mean
like
thick
Niggaz
lookin
all
in
my
face
like
they
want
dick
It's
about
to
hit
the
fan,
hit
the
flo′
That′s
all
I
can
stands,
and
I
can't
stands
no
mo′
What
is
it?
Niggaz
think
they
bigga
Because
they
got
the
finga
on
the
trigga
of
a
biscuit
They
don't
know
I′m
wicked,
when
I
start
to
kick
it
With
the
raw
sound,
wash
it
down
with
a
Mystic
Better
yet
a
Snapple,
nigga
want
the
juice
But
he
don't
want
the
hassle
Thought
they
trying
to
overthrow
the
castle
Better
yet
the
temple,
I′m
comin
to
your
town
Black
down,
the
rental,
car,
the
pistol
YAH!
If
you
don't
want
a
burn
from
glock
Then
beware,
I
buck
shots,
meaning
what,
the
buck
stops
Here,
no
more
dough
will
be
made
Unless
it's
being
made
by
who...
the
1-6-Ooh
[Interlude:
Raekwon
(Method
Man)]
Chamber
four
(1-6-Ooh)
Chamber
four
Temple
number
nine,
temple
number
nine
[Ol′
Dirty
Bastard]
I′m
the
original
G-O-D
Making
young
ladies
scream
is
my
specialty
When
I
go
ooh-wah,
ooh-wah,
ooh-wah,
girls
wanna
get
hype
From
the
funky
fresh
music
that
was
stereotyped
When
I
kill,
that
ol'
mad
rugged
flow
Not
sayin
Ason,
is
like
a
duck
of
disco
Or
a
disco
duck,
I′m
strictly
hip
hop
Yo,
Ason,
what's
up?
I
can′t
stop...
Wu-Tanging,
flipping
the
script
and
You
could
test
my
skills,
but
niggaz
must
be
trippin
Coked
up
from
sniffin,
you're
the
one
who′s
riffin
I'm
not
Opie,
save
that
old
shit
for
Andy
Griffith
You
start
to
flip,
now
ya
slip,
cuz
you're
slippin
While
you
sleep
I
be
the
God
on
point,
like
Scottie
Pippen
As
I,
jump
on
stage,
cold
flip
a
rip
a
show
Strip
or
rip
a
hoe,
ready
like
Bo
Jackson
while
I′m
still
taxin,
I′m
maxin
Relaxin,
sittin
backs
and,
laying
tracks
and
Again
and
again
when
I
rock
this
jam
I
wanna
see
'em
up
in
the
air,
throw
up
your
hand
Introducin,
the
one-man
band
A
child
that′s
wild,
now
with
the
style,
couldn't
stand
Niggaz
wanna
jump,
then
stepped,
to
the
center
Of
the
rhyme
inventor,
MC
tormentor
You
get
jacked
and
slapped,
across
the
MC
map
I
laugh
at
ya
ass,
on
a
horse
shack
Come
on
through
I
black
and
blue
your
whole
crew
Then
I
get
rudie
with
the
Hong
Kong
Phooey
The
Ol′
Dirty
Bastard,
MC
killer
Money
maker,
Brooklyn,
Shaolin
style
That
I
lay
down
like
tile
Gotta
hit
you
up,
one
blaow,
so
you
better
come
down...
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