作词 : Wu-Tang Clan 作曲 : Wu-Tang Clan I despise your killing and raping You're despicable (Are you my judge?) It's just you should be punished I'm gonna chop off your arm, so are you ready? (Verse 1: U-God) Check these high hats sling tings movin' through the rubbish Party robust, rec room style for you brothers Time's tickin', erupt misconduct Enterin' one funk before the drum dry up Dial, style, jab vocab slow Alphabet run, construction voice might blow Tap dance swellin', Hemingway novel model For a breather, dirty reefer hide your bottle Cut down, come with somethin' that's round and profound Blood brothers, people of colors, we get down Watch this fly, force feed things bein' said Nine Diagram acid black evil red leathers Mic half a dangle, serious a man My mic clapper death wish, everlastin' plan Heavenly God body, know me as the cleaner Night champion, old villain style seamer Kiss a spider, Seagal saga why bother Godfather talk drama, fly swatters Number two, Chao San Poi (Verse 2: GZA) This Wu shit be hard to kill at full blown Rhymes filtered through the net before words hit the chrome Pro tools editin' tracks that's rough 'Cause a jam without a live MC isn't enough So we attack this, and grab all within reach Throw a scrap back to niggas, perfect your own speech Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands Niggas look on and get hooked on this mic line Reeled in and shipped through the pipeline LPs delivered with style and potential Niggas flowin' smoothly in a sequential order Revealin' hidden tape recorders Stashed inside pockets of those who lack aura (Verse 3: Raekwon) Twist the DAC up, them niggas with math is back up Watch he act up, fifty-two block track we slap up Playground maneuver, jet to Vancouver like this Two Kahluas, one chick, she's German Luger Get the shit on Light a fresh pack, bust it open with the seal on, dunn Deal on this, with the real on Necks rocky ring, call it the Decatur Slang souffléer, home decorater, player Mic immigrants, nine of us formed resemblance Somethin' flashy, God dead-armed is nasty Peep the ornaments enough to make Shorty-Wop stare at me yo He killed the God, might as well throw a chair at me (Verse 4: RZA) Yo, MC's wonder what's hip-hop thunder? Tell you the truth, it's just one nation under a groove Gettin' down for the funk of it Like Fred Sanford in the biz... Yo, inhale this paraphernalia, a Wu memorabilia Melba the fortune teller, tried to tell ya 'Bout the group recruit, we scoop up CREAM like Breyer's Then spread across the globe like telephone wires Thirty-six assorted, Shaolin imported chambers been recorded You're ****in' with the loops, time for royalty audit Fabulous establishment metabolism, Blackfoot Indian Cherokee started out smaller than amphibian Then grew to a physical body with five meridians As the pendulum swings closer to the millennium 2000 Wickedness is spread amongst my citizen I gotta muscle the industrial to make a hustle And politic with Lyor and Russell When niggas is still rush in and brush you He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives (Verse 5: Masta Killa) Thoughts are contained in the trenches of the brain Ignite, blowin' the mic to Arabian heights As I recite this medley, niggas couldn't **** with the Deadly ground I hold down Classical gangland style, shots hit the ceilin' Panic and confusion echoes through the building Continuin' to build, I strive for perfection Driven by the will to live, Glocks I hold Shots I give, while searchers of rescue teams Look for means of survival and who's liable For this harrowin' experience You scream for the extreme Fiend for the capo regimes of the Wu-Tang Academy To **** up your anatomy with assault and battery Number two, Chao San Poi Number two, Chao San Poi He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives Number one, Yen Chang Wa He's an adulterer, don't trust him Number two, Chao San Poi Number two, Chao San Poi He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives I despise your killing, and raping You're... despicable Are you, my judge? It's just... you should be punished I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready? I despise your killing, and raping You're... despicable Are you, my judge? It's just... you should be punished I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?
[00:00.000] 作词 : Wu-Tang Clan [00:01.000] 作曲 : Wu-Tang Clan [00:03.276] I despise your killing and raping [00:06.941] You're despicable (Are you my judge?) [00:11.597] It's just you should be punished [00:14.680] I'm gonna chop off your arm, so are you ready? [00:22.412] (Verse 1: U-God) [00:26.095] Check these high hats sling tings movin' through the rubbish [00:28.595] Party robust, rec room style for you brothers [00:30.926] Time's tickin', erupt misconduct [00:32.977] Enterin' one funk before the drum dry up [00:35.407] Dial, style, jab vocab slow [00:37.932] Alphabet run, construction voice might blow [00:40.268] Tap dance swellin', Hemingway novel model [00:42.648] For a breather, dirty reefer hide your bottle [00:44.936] Cut down, come with somethin' that's round and profound [00:47.258] Blood brothers, people of colors, we get down [00:49.487] Watch this fly, force feed things bein' said [00:51.957] Nine Diagram acid black evil red leathers [00:54.582] Mic half a dangle, serious a man [00:56.686] My mic clapper death wish, everlastin' plan [00:59.007] Heavenly God body, know me as the cleaner [01:01.338] Night champion, old villain style seamer [01:03.685] Kiss a spider, Seagal saga why bother [01:06.101] Godfather talk drama, fly swatters [01:10.267] Number two, Chao San Poi [01:12.760] (Verse 2: GZA) [01:13.096] This Wu shit be hard to kill at full blown [01:15.426] Rhymes filtered through the net before words hit the chrome [01:17.833] Pro tools editin' tracks that's rough [01:20.076] 'Cause a jam without a live MC isn't enough [01:22.477] So we attack this, and grab all within reach [01:24.733] Throw a scrap back to niggas, perfect your own speech [01:27.125] Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands [01:29.464] Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands [01:31.712] Niggas look on and get hooked on this mic line [01:34.450] Reeled in and shipped through the pipeline [01:36.690] LPs delivered with style and potential [01:38.908] Niggas flowin' smoothly in a sequential order [01:41.982] Revealin' hidden tape recorders [01:43.635] Stashed inside pockets of those who lack aura [01:45.994] (Verse 3: Raekwon) [01:46.223] Twist the DAC up, them niggas with math is back up [01:48.329] Watch he act up, fifty-two block track we slap up [01:50.823] Playground maneuver, jet to Vancouver like this [01:53.399] Two Kahluas, one chick, she's German Luger [01:55.433] Get the shit on [01:56.098] Light a fresh pack, bust it open with the seal on, dunn [01:58.696] Deal on this, with the real on [02:00.147] Necks rocky ring, call it the Decatur [02:02.408] Slang souffléer, home decorater, player [02:04.617] Mic immigrants, nine of us formed resemblance [02:07.010] Somethin' flashy, God dead-armed is nasty [02:09.354] Peep the ornaments enough to make Shorty-Wop stare at me yo [02:12.268] He killed the God, might as well throw a chair at me [02:14.242] (Verse 4: RZA) [02:14.435] Yo, MC's wonder what's hip-hop thunder? [02:16.553] Tell you the truth, it's just one nation under a groove [02:19.607] Gettin' down for the funk of it [02:21.542] Like Fred Sanford in the biz... [02:23.063] Yo, inhale this paraphernalia, a Wu memorabilia [02:26.043] Melba the fortune teller, tried to tell ya [02:28.428] 'Bout the group recruit, we scoop up CREAM like Breyer's [02:30.758] Then spread across the globe like telephone wires [02:32.958] Thirty-six assorted, Shaolin imported chambers been recorded [02:36.554] You're ****in' with the loops, time for royalty audit [02:38.989] Fabulous establishment metabolism, Blackfoot Indian [02:42.479] Cherokee started out smaller than amphibian [02:44.806] Then grew to a physical body with five meridians [02:47.206] As the pendulum swings closer to the millennium 2000 [02:50.030] Wickedness is spread amongst my citizen [02:51.975] I gotta muscle the industrial to make a hustle [02:54.323] And politic with Lyor and Russell [02:55.725] When niggas is still rush in and brush you [02:57.055] He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives [03:00.031] (Verse 5: Masta Killa) [03:01.186] Thoughts are contained in the trenches of the brain [03:03.476] Ignite, blowin' the mic to Arabian heights [03:05.680] As I recite this medley, niggas couldn't **** with the [03:08.469] Deadly ground I hold down [03:10.005] Classical gangland style, shots hit the ceilin' [03:12.999] Panic and confusion echoes through the building [03:15.269] Continuin' to build, I strive for perfection [03:17.644] Driven by the will to live, Glocks I hold [03:20.034] Shots I give, while searchers of rescue teams [03:22.689] Look for means of survival and who's liable [03:25.115] For this harrowin' experience [03:26.703] You scream for the extreme [03:28.438] Fiend for the capo regimes of the Wu-Tang Academy [03:31.375] To **** up your anatomy with assault and battery [03:36.237] Number two, Chao San Poi [03:41.248] Number two, Chao San Poi [03:43.704] He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives [03:49.072] Number one, Yen Chang Wa [03:52.190] He's an adulterer, don't trust him [03:55.327] Number two, Chao San Poi [04:00.030] Number two, Chao San Poi [04:07.034] He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives [04:11.826] I despise your killing, and raping [04:15.771] You're... despicable [04:17.964] Are you, my judge? [04:20.289] It's just... you should be punished [04:22.659] I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready? [04:26.520] I despise your killing, and raping [04:29.906] You're... despicable [04:32.323] Are you, my judge? [04:34.789] It's just... you should be punished [04:37.293] I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?
