
Date of issue: 25.10.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Triumph |
What y’all thought y’all wasn’t gon’see me? |
I’m the Osirus of this shit |
Wu-Tang is here forever, motherfucker |
It’s like this ninety-seven |
Aight my niggaz and my niggarettes |
Let’s do it like this |
I’ma rub your ass in the moonshine |
Let’s take it back to seventy-nine |
I bomb atomically, Socrates’philosophies |
and hypothesis can’t define how I be droppin these |
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery |
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits |
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics |
I inspect you, through the future see millenium |
Killa B’s sold fifty gold sixty platinum |
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics |
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths |
Black Wu jackets queen B’s ease the guns in Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function |
Heads by the score take flight incite a war |
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more |
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly |
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi |
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock |
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block |
As the world turns, I spread like germs |
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn |
It’s my testament to those burned |
Play my position in the game of life, standin firm |
on foreign land, jump the gun out the fryin pan, into the fire |
Transform into the Ghostrider, a six-pack |
and +A Streetcar Named Desire+, who got my back? |
In the line of fire holdin back, what? |
My peoples if you with me where the fuck you at? |
Niggaz is strapped, and they tryin to twist my beer cap |
It’s court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm |
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood |
clot, we smoke pot, and blow spots |
You wanna think twice, I think not |
The Iron Lung ain’t got ta tell you where it’s coming from |
Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone |
Rip through your slums |
I twist darts from the heart, tried and true |
Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks |
Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin |
Tell your story walkin |
Take cover kid, what? |
Run for your brother, kid |
Run for your team, and your six camp rhyme groupies |
So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted |
My deadly notes reigns supreme |
Your fort is basic compared to mine |
Domino effect, arts and crafts |
Paragraphs contain cyanide |
Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion |
catalogues for all y’all to all praise to the Gods |
The saga continues |
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang |
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet |
The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat |
We crush slow, flamin deluxe slow |
For, judgment day cometh, conquer, it’s war |
Allow us to escape, hell glow spinning bomb |
Pocket full of shells out the sky, Golden Arms |
Tune spit the shitty Mortal Kombat sound |
The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground |
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum |
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem |
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics |
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas |
My music Sicily, rich California smell |
An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well |
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin on ginseng |
Righteous wax chaperone, rotating ring king |
Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher-Punks couldn’t hold us A thousand men rushin in, not one nigga was sober |
Perpendicular to the square, we stamp gold like Fleer |
Escape from your Dragon’s Lair, in particular |
My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine |
to the top of your cerebrum cortex |
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex |
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream |
now terminal, like Grand Central Station |
Program fat baselines, on Novation |
Getting drunk like a fuck, I’m duckin five-year probation |
War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous |
Many of the victim family save they ashes |
A million names on walls engraved in plaques |
Those who went back, received penalties for the axe |
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn |
Those who stray, niggaz get slayed on the song |
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds |
and leaks sounds that’s heard |
ninety-three million miles away from came one |
to represent the Nation, this is a gathering |
of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan |
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage |
The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage |
Light is provided through sparks of energy |
from the mind that travels in rhyme form |
Givin sight to the blind |
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum |
Death only one can save self from |
This relentless attack of the track spares none |
Yo! |
Yo! |
Yo, fuck that, look at all these crab niggaz laid back |
Lampin like them gray and black Puma’s on my man’s rack |
Codeine was forced in your drink |
You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you scream |
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb |
Blowin like Shalamar in eighty-one |
Sound convincin, thousand dollar court by convention |
Hands, like Sonny Liston, get fly permission |
Hold the fuck up, I’ll unfasten your wig, bad luck |
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch |
it’s me, black nobled you Ali |
Came in threes we like the Genovese, is that so? |
Caesar needs the greens, it’s Earth |
Ninety-three million miles from the first |
Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the megahertz |
Aiyyo that’s amazing, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk |
Connect thoughts to make my manchild walk |
Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser |
New York Yank’visor world tranquilizer |
Just a dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives |
While, my pen blow lines ferocious |
Mediterranean, see y’all, the number one draft pick |
Tear down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God |
The swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula |
Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala |
Max mostly, undivided, then slide in, sickenin |
Guaranteed, made em jump like Rod Strickland |
Name | Year |
---|---|
Winter Warz ft. Masta Killa, U-God, Cappadonna | 2020 |
Rollin' (Urban Assault Vehicle) ft. DMX, Redman, Method Man | 2000 |
Winter Warz ft. Cappadonna, U-God, Masta Killa | 2020 |
Above The Clouds ft. Gang Starr | 2001 |
Keep It Moving ft. Sami | 2021 |
Shimmy Shimmy Ya | 2011 |
Ghetto ft. Cappadonna, U-God, Raekwon | 2009 |
Preservation ft. Del The Funky Homosapien, Aesop Rock | 2005 |
Got Your Money ft. Ol' Dirty Bastard | 1999 |
Investigative Reports ft. Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, U-God | 1995 |
Ghetto ft. Raekwon, Cappadonna, U-God | 2009 |
N 2 Gether Now ft. Method Man | 1999 |
Da Rockwilder ft. Method Man | 2014 |
Stomp da Roach ft. Scotty Wotty, U-God | 2014 |
Dirty Mef ft. Ol' Dirty Bastard | 2005 |
Wu Tang Forever ft. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, RZA | 2018 |
Diesel Fluid ft. Cappadonna, Trife Diesel, Wu-Tang Clan | 2011 |
A Better Tomorrow | 2014 |
Brooklyn Zoo | 2011 |
Sweet Love ft. Cappadonna, Streetlife | 1998 |
Artist lyrics: Wu-Tang Clan
Artist lyrics: Ol' Dirty Bastard
Artist lyrics: Inspectah Deck
Artist lyrics: Method Man
Artist lyrics: Cappadonna
Artist lyrics: U-God