Hellz Wind Staff - Wu-Tang Clan F/ Street Life

["The Wu-Tang Clan will rise again 
There are many of us, working for the good of the Wu] Tang" 

"Die!" *sounds of fighting are heard* 

Verse One: Street Life 

So get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind Staff 
While the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the news 
like Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lung 
His father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongue 
Another youth dead, before the age of twenty-one 
Left his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slums 
With a shot that go, for twisted metal for cash flow 
React slow nigga and get, P.L.O. 
By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brother 
who got slain last summer by a cocaine runner 
A new year is dawning, new crews is forming 
Rival gangs warring blood steadily pouring 
The streets are deep Son every day is like a rerun 
So I reach out and try to teach one 
But eighty-five percent uncivilized content 
No tolerance so a lifetime is spent 
behind a cage bent smoked out on a park bench 
Killer instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched 

*sounds of fighting* 

Verse Two: Ghostface Killah 

So yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuck 
Tell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truck 
To all you slow footed penguins, duckin from these 
hot rocks that's flamin, chocolate for all you rap Damian's 
Spraying cards ex-pionage, dodgeball square hard 
Strip bars, no bras, wet leotards 
and a mink in, next album blood on Seth Abram 
Keep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpen 
Discovery Channel, cats that book at Daniel 
Coke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboo 
high school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck out 
on the regular for robbin a good nigga house 
Rough cut raw doses, the unexplainable 
Hot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa 

*sounds of fighting* 

Verse Three: Inspectah Deck 

Ha ha ha ha, yo 
What you know about this, specialist armed dangerous 
Hit you close range with this madness 
Unique design shine like a deep dish 
The beat kick technique split all your weak shit 
Yes, the rhythm, the Rebel 
Alone in my level heat it up past the boiling point of metal 
Living legend, veteran known to set trend 
Lethal weapon, step through your section 
with the Force like Luke Skywalker 
Rhyme author, orchestrate mind torture 
Live performer, bit the mic sayanora 
Borderline to insane, I rain firewater 
Tape recorder, can't be saved by a court order 
I got my sword cross your throat you joke 

Verse Four: Method Man 

We on the run with the golden guns, get you none 
when it reach out and teach someone, blaze they buns 
Now I'm guilty by association 
Times of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practice 
commence when I throw these darts at these rappers 
Ricochet, hit the charts, bloody your matress 
Hold me down, Wu bloodkin, I'm goin in 
Shootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoction 
blend like a million 
All these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word up 
We can go platinum but then, still can't get no satisfaction 
Once again, back on the block crumb snatchin 
Blowin backs in cold 
Blunted non-assassin, time for action, Johnny Unidas 
Handle that like arthritis 
Still, hold a golden touch like King Midas 

*swords clash* 

Verse Five: RZA 

Drown in problems the Heineken's imported from Holland 
Gettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columns 
get trapped by drum tracks mac loud as gun claps 
Pen'll grab the death of a thousand dumb tacks 
The Wu Sensai fold, it beez the Wind Ninja scroll 
Soul edged blade controls your inner pole 
The thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree root 
I stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruits 
with Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it means 
when bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling 
("Sometimes...") Pushed through like George Bush Operation Whoops 
Shots get popped on the block cause them blood to gush 
From digital to analog, the Wu-Wear camoflogue 
The entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibar 
like herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadow 
Connect the Book of Shaolin like the brothers I know Now Rule 

Verse Six: Raekwon the Chef 

Stash the cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleama 
Lex graffiti name reamer, hold em we rollin 
askin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in Toledo 
Pussy that shit she passin off to me though 
We wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, Maxamill 
You could crash a meal, got you back steel 
scold em and fold em like the thousand dollar bills 
sit back eyein y'all niggaz out 
Fakes that delegate we spittin fire out 
Verb burgular, design the Wally shoe store reserve 
a jet status, guidin these vert up on my matress 
Watch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashion 
Yo, these hands is flooded and they mad quick 
Strong approach like magnets, custom wood crane name 
Stylin rich, RZA made the waves in one chain 
Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide like 
step on his Klondike, get your dart right 
We movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face broke 
Jury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y'all cats 

("Sometimes...") 
*sounds of fighting* 

"May you rot in hell!" 
"Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!"