"Da Mystery Of Chessboxin'" lyrics - WU-TANG CLAN

WU-TANG CLAN
"Da Mystery Of Chessboxin'"

[Intro: "Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang" + "Five Deadly Venoms"]
A game of chess is like a swordfight:
You must think first before you move
Toad style is immensely strong
And immune to nearly any weapon
When it's properly used it's almost invincible

[Verse 1: U-God]
Raw I'ma give it to ya, with no trivia
Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia
My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation
Like the Emancipation Proclamation
Weak MC's approach with slang that's dead
You might as well run into the wall and bang your head
I'm pushin' force, my force you're doubtin'
I'm makin' devils cower to the Caucasus Mountains

[Verse 2: Inspectah Deck]
Well, I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire
Rap styles vary and carry like Mariah
I come from the Shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from
Is comin' through with nuff niggas and nuff guns
So if you wanna come sweatin', stressin', contestin'
You'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection
Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk
Phony niggas are outlined in chalk
I'm mad vexed, it's what the projects made me
Rebel to the grain, there's no way to barricade me
Steamrollin' niggas like an 18 wheeler
With a drunk driver drivin', there's no survivin'

[Verse 3: Raekwon the Chef]
Rough like Timberland wear, yeah
Me and the Clan in 'Yota Landcruisers out there
Peace to all the crooks, all the niggas with bad looks
Bald heads, braids, blow this hook
We pack chrome TEC's, nickel-plated MAC's
Black AC's, drug-dealin' styles in phat stacks
I only been a good nigga for a minute though
'Cause I got to get my props and win it, yo
I got beef with commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth
Lampin' in a Lexus, eatin' beef
Straight up and down, don't even bother
I got 40 niggas up in here now who kill niggas' fathers

[Chorus: Method Man]
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
In the front, in the back, Killa Bees on attack
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
Smokin' meth, hittin' cats on the block with the gats

[Verse 4: Ol' Dirty Bastard]
Here I go, deep type flow
Jacques Cousteau could never get this low
I'm cherry bombin' shits... BOOM!
Just warmin' up a little bit, vroom vroom
Rappinin' is what's happenin'
Keep the pockets stacked and then, hands clap and then
At the party when I move my body
Gotta get up and be somebody!
Grab the microphone, put strength to the bone
DUH DUH DUH... enter the Wu-Tang zone
Sure enough when I rock that stuff
Huff? Puff? I'm gonna catch your bluff tuff
Rough, kickin' rhymes like Jim Kelly
Or Alex Haley, I'm a Mi-...Beetle Bailey rhymes
Comin' raw style, hardcore
Niggas be comin' to the hip-hop store
Comin' to buy grocery from me
Tryin' to be a hip-hop MC
The law, in order to enter the Wu-Tang
You must bring the Ol' Dirty Bastard type slang
Represent the GZA, Abbot
RZA, Shaquan, Inspectah Deck
Dirty Ol' gettin' low with his flow
Introducin' the Ghostface Killah
No one could get iller

[Chorus: Method Man]
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
In the front, in the back, Killa Beez on attack
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
Smokin' meth, hittin' cats on the block with the gats

[Verse 5: Ghostface Killah]
Speakin' of the Devil, psych!
No, it's the God, get the shit right
Mega trife, and yo, I killed you in a past life
On the mic while you was kickin' that fast shit
You reneged, tried again and got blasted
Half-mastered-ass style, mad ruff task
When I struck I had on Timbs and a black mask
Remember that shit? I know you don't remember jack
That night, yo, I was hittin' like a spiked bat
And then you thought I was bugged out, and crazy
Strapped for nonsense, after me became lazy
Yo, nobody budge while I shot slugs
Never shot thugs, I'm runnin' with thugs that flood mugs
So, grab your eight plus one
Start flippin' and trippin', niggas is jettin', I'm lickin' off, son

[All]
Wu! Tang! Wu! Tang!
Wu! Tang! Wu! Ta-a-ang!

[Verse 6: Masta Killa]
Homicide's illegal and death is the penalty
One justifies the homicide when he dies in his own iniquity?
It's the master of the Mantis Rapture comin' at ya
We have an APB on an MC Killer
Looks like the work of a master
Evidence indicates that his stature
Merciless like a terrorist hard to capture
The flow changes like a chameleon
Plays like a friend and stabs you like a dagger
This technique attacks the immune system
Disguised like a lie, paralyzin' the victim
You scream as it enters your bloodstream
Erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain
Movin' on a nigga with the speed of a centipede
And injure any motherfuckin' contender

[Chorus: Method Man]
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
In the front, in the back, Killa Beez on attack
My peoples, are you with me? Where you at?
Smokin' meth, hittin' cats on the block with the gats