Deadly Melody - Wu-Tang Clan F/ Street Life

[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 

[U-God] 
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 

[RZA] 
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 

[Method] 
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 

[RZA] 
The bewilderin killa bee quickly sting ya 
I ain't gotta life one fuckin finga 
Make sure to God I reef turns on the ringer 
We duckin the subpeona 
Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina 

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

[Method] 
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 

[Ghostface] 
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