Clan Wu-tang Da Mystery Of Chessboxin Lyrics

Da Mystery Of Chessboxin Lyrics

"The 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 One: U-God







Raw imma 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 your doubtin'



I'm makin' devils cower to the Caucus Mountains







Verse Two: Inspector 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 niggaz, and nuff guns



so if you wanna come sweatin, stressin contesting



you'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection



don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk



phony niggaz are outlined in chalk



a man vexed, is what the projects made me



rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me



steamrollin niggas with the eighteen wheeler



with the drunk driver drivin, there's no survivin







Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef







Ruff like Timberland wear, yeah



me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there



peace to all the crooks, all the niggaz with bad looks



bald heads, braids, blow this hook



we got chrome teks, nickel plated macs



black axe, drug dealin'styles in phat stacks



I only been a good nigga for a minute though



cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo



I got beef wit commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth



lampin in a Lexus eatin beef



straight up and down don't even bother



I got fourty niggaz up in here now, who kill niggaz 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 caps on the block with the gats







Verse Four: Ol Dirty Bastard







Here I go, deep type flow



Jacque 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 clappin n' and



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 im 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, Inspecta Deck



dirty hoe gettin low wit his flow



introducin' the Ghostface Killer



no one could get illa







Chorus







Verse Five: Ghost Face Killer







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 renegged tried again, and got blasted



half mastered ass style mad ruff task



when I struck I had on Tims and a black mask



Remember that shit? I know you don't remember jack



That night yo I wuz 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







(Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang!!!)







Verse Six: Master Killer







Homicide's illegal and death is the penalty



What justifies the homicide, when he dies?



In his own iniquity it's the



Master of the Mantis Rapture comin at cha



we have an APB on an MC Killer



look like the work of a Master



evidence indicates that's it's 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



the styles like alive 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 motha fuckin' contender.







Chorus