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    Wu-Tang Clan / Lyrics

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    "Deadly Melody" Lyrics

    Wu-Tang Clan

    track 5 on disc 2
    Forever [1997]
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    [Masta Killa]
    As we return, to the 36 Chambers
    The RZA, the GZA
    The Ol Dirty BZA
    U-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah
    And Meth, Rebel I soldier for the foreclosure
    Don't forget about the Masta, yo

    Motherfuckers halt, when my Colt, start stompin
    Thunder, strikes your land with a jolt
    Your stamina level is low, like currents from
    the volts of relentless punishment that multiplies
    At a speed that the naked eye can't die-tect
    the infantry, peep the weapon-try as I bomb atomically
    Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded
    by this total square mileage of violence that I brung
    I've not yet begun to stung
    It's the ethics, the rigorous training methods
    of the Abbott, incite overseas to opposition
    Penetrates then infiltrates
    Breakin down your resistance
    Leavin competition defenseless, Masta
    Hip-hop antagonizer, dumb deaf and blind civilizer
    with the silencer

    Psssh, yo
    Pile-driver Tut boulder face blow Hulk
    Anger rap book causin chess blade smoke
    Minds the trunk, punk, elephant gun poke
    Jaw-breaker humanoid vice-grip, choke
    Face the inferno, maestro, pull it
    Pipe hard slang, bite the golden bullet
    Never, sold my soul Golden Arm cold stinger
    See me on the streets address me stone bringer
    Ease away, freeze back, feedback, play out in
    sweet action packed rap
    Bite it, stomp on a beat
    Posess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas
    Wu status, now, wisdom to the masses

    Cock back my tongue like a hammer, my head is like
    a nickel-plated bammer, spit forty-five caliber grammar
    At the speed of wind makes you bleed within
    Crack your skull, without penetratin your skin
    Reign of champ official, Wu scamp with black pistols
    Spent the weekend programmin fat tracks at Camp Cristal

    Home on the range, rebel with a pen
    writin critically acclaimed scriptures that do you in
    Mista, Meth, Hot Nickels
    Say my shit holding my Sex Pistol, deal me in

    The bewilderin killa bee quickly sting ya
    I ain't gotta lift one fuckin finga
    Make sure the God I-reef turns on the ringer, we duckin the subpeona
    Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina

    [MK] Check the 150 millimeter
    heater as it blows holes through your fuckin speaker
    [U-God] Makin you weaker creepin inches centimeters
    [GZA] Fifty caliber street sweeper
    Shots from Shaolin that go to Masapeaqua

    Things'll never be the same, after this one
    Ghostrider spit flame, lay back and twist one
    Recognize the Gods came, for one accord
    For one mind and one cause, that's the shit Son
    Play them crows out position
    You might hear me but you don't listen
    Competition come and get some on
    Red marker still bleedin, through the paper
    of his sick premeditated, murder caper

    [Street Life]
    I walk with the Shaolin strut, burn a dutch
    Watch Street eat em up, cold crush, bumrush
    Spot rusher get touched backed up handcuffed
    Y'all niggaz can't FUCK with us

    Pass me the black velvet embassy suite killin me
    Spell it Maxi Priest caught me in the days up on Delancy Street
    Stand solar, deadly vengeance with a crowbar
    It's like the dreads worshipin Jah, so ha-lo-ha
    Pineapple crushed 850 swerve it with a rush
    Plush the Canola Range spittin off the roof, holdin my change
    Yo it's ragtime, universal 12 Monkey mind
    It's like, stalkin through your airport *BZZZZZZT* with a chunky nine

    [Street Life]
    The undervolt Staten New York
    Blood sport gun talk holdin fort back, take em to court (Method: One time)
    It's the burner Shaolin bound facedown you gets murdered
    Roadblock shell shocked, stretched on a back block
    Yo it's warfare when you ring here, slugs fly through midair
    Landin thugs in wheelchairs from the slugfest
    Keeps the iron, where the head rest, for the conquest
    Subway, wordplay ricochet through your projects, crime pays
    Matched up in a staircase, in a dark place embraced
    by the trey-eight, I'm in so deep I can't escape
    These crime situations, I stay in man formation
    And shot echoes through the ghetto locations y'all remain
    P.L.O., slam cats like Bam Bam, Bigolo
    Throw a flow like Nomo relate like Fidel Castro
    I be the great all pro, hangin MC's by they logos
    My street journal reacts and blaze like an inferno
    This song was submitted on February 8th, 2008 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Thanks to Snap for the contribution to this song.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Clifford Smith, Dennis David Coles, Elgin Evander Turner, Gary E. Grice, Lamont Hawkins, Patrick Charles, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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