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Old 06-01-2008, 05:27 PM   #3
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#25 A Better Tomorrow
- Wu-Tang Forever
- 716 pts.

Artists:Inspectah Deck/Masta Killa/U-God/RZA/Method Man
Producer:4th Disciple
Track: #10
Time: 4:55

The Wu are versatile, really versatile. Whether rhyming about sex, coke, street life, hard times growing up, or straight battle darts, they do it right. However, it's when they're dropping knowledge with a positive message that the Wu often show their true greatness. A Better Tomorrow is one of those tracks.

4th Disciple flips a beat so poignant, it tugs at the heartstrings. With a catchy piano loop, an even catchier viola bridge and a simple low rumbling beat 4th manages to capture the mood of the lyrics perfectly, it's actually quite depressing.

Deck, Masta Killa, Uey, Rza and Meth all drop great verses here. Touching on personal heartache as well as general hard times for the youth growing up surrounded by poverty, drugs and violence in America's 'concrete hell'.

Deck just never comes bad on a Clan album, what a jump off...

Yo, in the housing, thousands seen early graves
Victims of worldly ways, memories stays engraved

All my live brothers, is locked down with high numbers
The young hunger, blind to these lies, they die younger

In this New World the Order slaughter men, women, and children
Ten feet gates surround the building keep us sealed in
The projects, lifeless like a Vietnam vet
Constant war, sever threats of enemy conquest
Crooked cops comb my building complex that's in the rumble
Streets are like a jungle, can't let my cypher crumble

Vivid thoughts, Devils resort to trick knowledge
They kick garbage, lust for chicks and quick dollars

I know the pain the game bring, I did the same thing
Spaced out in the staircase, performing a sting
It's hard to keep control, I bless those who seek a scroll
Trying to reach a whole nation and break the sleeper hold

Not a role model, I walk a hard road to follow
I sold bottles of sorrow then chose poems and novels

The gospel was told, some souls it swallowed whole
Mentally they fold, and they eventually sold
their life and times, deadly like the virus design
but too, minute to dilute, the scientist mind

The back and forth chorus fits perfectly and instills a positive message and hope for the future, in a lyrically very down-beat track.

You can't party your life away
Drink your life away
Smoke your life away
Fuck your life away
Dream your life away
Scheme your life away
Cause your seeds grow up the same way

Masta's verse is just incredible, he speaks about a Muslim family, the victims of scientific experimentation and gun violence.

A voice cries from the wilderness of the North
A representation of the families that lost one
all victims of incarceration
Or other divisions of the family structure
Youths are injected with serums that leads
to skin irritations, babies being born with
disfigurations, experimentations
On their faces there bear world relations
of mothers that carry the pain
of blood stained streets where sisters mourn and wail
Fifth brothers been slain from hails of gun fire

It lightly begins to rain screams of terror
are hidden by the passing trains
This can't be little Hussein, his uncle cried
As he drops to his nephew's side, holding his cane

Just give me a name, of who has inflicted this
bitter sickness, and left us to witness

U-God rips it admirably considering he's just plain outshined by brilliant verses all around him

Yeah, yo
Curses from war, innocent blood spills for days
Soothe in godly ways, hands, solemn in praise
Tree of life, more precious than Wu is golden game
The wise self flourish inherit, Halls of Fame
Crime visions in my blood got me, locked in prison
While we die hard living people whine about religion, vision
Blow, spin, and sin and killing what's revealing
It's a never ending battle with no ending or beginning, listen
Zero process, progress, become the hunted
America's most wanted, good life flaunted, want it
Some love the speed, some satisfy a need
Some want to be down, young gun seed, jungle breed
The strong must feed, someone die, someone bleed
One flew astray, and then caught my little seed
Can it be, the ice have us trife life, made me grab the knife
The righteous man would be within these stripes pipes
Take in my energy, breath and know the rest
Cause the good die young and the hard die best

RZA's verse just makes me smile. It's so clever and funny, it's just all around intelligent, and is the essential core of the track covering all bases, from his stern warning to the young women, to Medicaid, to his unique view of the American flag he makes sure he is heard.

Y'all bitches love dances, and pulling down your pants
while your man's on tour, your spending up his advances
Your friends ain't shit, all they do is drink, smoke, and suck dick
The whole projects is trapped in stench
You either high school drop-outs, one to three cop-outs
Fifteen years old, shorty ass and top out
Ninety-nine cent beer drinking pussy stinking
Fucking so much your ass and titties start shrinking

New World Order slave trade, minimum wage, Medicaid
Can a devil fool a Muslim nowadays
Inside my lab, I'm going mad
Took two drags off the blunts, and started breaking down the flag

The blue is for the Crips, the red is for the Bloods
The whites for the cops, and the stars come from the clubs

or the slugs that ignites, through the night, by the dawn
Early light, why is sons fighting for the stripe

Mef brings it home...

As we dwell through this concrete hell, calling it home
Mama say, take your time young man and build your own
Don't wind up like your old dad
Still searching for them glory days he never had
So many bad want to scheme for American dream, no more kings
The cash rule everything now, we going down
These babies looking up to us, it's up to us
The Million Man March MC's, get on the bus
But envy, greed, lust, and hate, separate
Though the devil mind state blood kin cannot relate
No longer, brothers, we unstable
Like Kane when he slew Abel, killing each other

From Decks intro to the final hook, just sit back and enjoy. Don't waste your time looking for a weak wont find one.
This is what the Wu do best.

***Review by TheWolf

#24 Winter Warz
- Ironman
- 718 pts.

Artists:Raekwon/U-God/Ghostface Killah/Masta Killa/Cappadonna
Track: #7
Time: 4:40

During the apex of Wu-Tang dominance in hip hop, comes a posse cut featuring U-God, Ghostface, Raekwon, Masta Killa and the unofficial 10th member, Cappadonna. Winter Warz was first heard on Don't Be a Menace soundtrack and eventually became one of the many classic tracks on Ironman.

Ghost's debut, the 5th Wu-solo release, is an instant classic called "Ironman." All over NY's Hot 97, back when hardcore hip hop actually got mad airplay, Warz was at the forefront of mainstream hip hop radio. This was sorta unreal considering this track is well over 4mins. (A no-no in commercial radio) Wu tracks were always long especially posse cuts like this.

The hook hits you immediately...

Yes the shit is raw, comin at your door
Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more
Yes the hour's four, I told you before
Prepare for mic fights (and plus the cold war)

U-God sets shit off with heat then torches passed thru Generals settin up Cappadonna's RIDICULOUS verse. You know you recite his verse when you hear it in your cars, party, concert or at the crib. Cappa wouldnt stop ! Making his debut on Rae's Cuban Link, lots of heads were forced to take serious notice with his verse on Winter Warz.

Cut you like a blunt & Re-construct ya design, I know you wanna diss me, but I can read ya mind..cuz you weak in the knees like SWV, tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee....

Just one of many sick lines in his verse. Not that Ghost's & Masta's verses were off point, they just let Cap shine on this one. Rae doin' the hook was a nice change and RZA's production with the high pitched sample throughout the track resembles the sound of bees
swarming. THE ONLY song played during the end credits of Dont Be a Menace without any edits, it plays straight thru to the end of the credits. Wu Posse cuts ain't the same unless RZA is behind the production.

Another classic in the chamber from the clan in the days when they were unstoppable.

fav lines- Cappa's whole verse

You heard of the rasp before but kept waitin
for the sun of song, I keep dancehalls strong
Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong
Extravangza, time sits still
No propoganda, be wary of the skill
As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum
Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome
Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat
CD massacre, murder to cassette
I blow the shop up, you ain't seen nuttin yet
One man ran, tryin to get away from it
Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh
into your chamber like Freddy enter dream
Discombumberate your technique and your scheme
Four course applause, like a black dat to dat
You're stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map
Nowhere to go except next show bro
Entertainin motherfuckers can't stop O
in battlin, you don't want me to start tattlin
All upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin
Bitch, you ain't got nothin on the rich
Every other day my whole dress code switch
So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry
All y'all crab bitches ain't got to worry
Can't get a nigga like Don dime a dozen
Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out
I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill
See my face on the twenty dollar bill
Cash it in, and get ten dollars back
The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax
Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve
Put all the other LP's back on the shelf
And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7
And you could get long dick hip-hop affection
I damage any MC who step in my direction
I'm Staten Island's best son fuck what you heard
Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd
My repotoire, is U.S.S.R.
P.L.O. style got thrown out the car
and ran over, by the Method Man jeep
Divine can't define my style is so deep
like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy
like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine
Cut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design
I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind
Cuz you weak in the knees, like SWV
Tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee
Kid change your habit, you know I'm friends with the Abbott
Me and RZA ridin name printed in the tablet
under vets, we paid our debts for mad years
Hibernate the sound, and now we out like beers
and blunt power, born physically power speakin
The truth in the song be the pro-black teachin

***review by Tekunique

#23 Can It Be All So Simple
- Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
- 724 pts.

RZA/Raekwon/Ghostface Killah
Track: #5
Time: 6:53
Samples: "The Way We Were" - Gladys Knight & The Pips
"I Got The" - Labi Siffre

The third and final single for 36 Chambers, a very emotional song with sentimental, extraordinary, terrific verses from Raekwon and Ghostface Killah. Ghost and Rae both drop verses that are considered among their best ever. This song is as good as they get. This song WILL hit you hard. The lyrics take your mind on a visual journey, as the melody, a slow rumbling one provides the emotional heart to the song. The forefont is a a couple of low strumming notes that break and get higher at various points in the track, kind of boring, but the subconscious hooks, two brilliant ones at that, are this high screeching whistle that is oh so Wu, and the instrumental sample itself, followed by a what sounds like a woman's chuckle. The looping "Can it be that it was all so simple then" and the whistle give you the essence of the Wu-Tang sound. After a intro that takes you in with the sentence.....

"Everybody's talking bout the good ol' days, let's talk about the good ol' days"

Started off on the island, AK Shaolin
Niggaz wildin', gun shots thrown the phone dialin
Back in the days of eight now, makin a tape now
Rae gotta get a plate now
Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one
Till I got (BAM! BAM!) thrown one
Yeah, my pops was a fiend since sixteen
Shootin' that (that's that shit!) in his blood stream
That's the life of a crimey, real live crimey
If niggas know the half is behind me
Day one, yo, growin all up in the ghetto
Now I'm a weed fiend, jettin the Palmetto
In Medina, yo no doubt the God got crazy clout
Pushin the big joint from down South
So if you're filthy stacked up
Betta watch ya back and duck
Cause these fiends they gotit cracked up
Now my man from up north, now he got the law
It's solid as a rock and crazy salt
No jokes, I'm not playin, get his folks
Desert Eagle his dick and put 'em in a yolk (AAH!)

And to know for sure, I got reck and rip shop
I pointed a gat at his mother's knot

(Yo, Rae, don't do that shit, man! Don't do that shit! //gunshots//)
Fuck that

With a very emotional hook, that hits you immediately after the gunshots...

Dedicated to the winners and the losers
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Dedicated to all jeeps and land cruisers
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Dedicated to the Y's, 850-I's
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Dedicated to niggas who do drive-bys
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Dedicated to the Lexus and the Ax
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Dedicated to MPV's phat!
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
Nigga, yeah, yeah!...

When you thought it was as emotional as it could possibly get, Ghostface Killah comes in with a verse that many, including me, consider his best work. You can feel the energy get to you with every line he spits...

Kickin the fly cliches
Doing duets with Rae and A, happens to make my day
Though I'm tired of bustin off shots having to rock knots
Runnin up in spots and makin shit hot
I'd rather flip shows instead of those
Hangin on my living room wall
My first joint, and it went gold
I want to lamp, I want to be in the shade
Plus the spot light
Gettin my dick rubbed all night
I wanna have me a fat yacht
And enough land to go and plant my own cess crops
But for now, it just a big dream
Cause I find myself in the place where I'm last seen
My thoughts must be relaxed
Be able to maintain
Cause times is changed and life is strange
The glorious days is gone, and everybody's doin' bad
Yo, mad lives is up for grabs

Brothers, passin away, I gotta make wakes
Receivin all types of calls from upstate

Yo, I can't cope with the pressure
Settling for lesser
The god left lessons on my dresser

So I can bloom and blossom, find a new way
Continue to make hits with Rae and A
Sunshine plays a major part in the daytime

Peace to mankind Ghostface carry a black nine, nigga

With that said... you can all wipe your eyes while the sample is going until it fades out and a smile can go back to your face as you hear Method Man describing fellow Clansmen in an excerpt of an interview from back in the day.

***review by Shizzah

#22 Rainy Dayz
- Only Built for Cuban Linx
- 730 pts.

Blue Raspberry/Ghostface Killah/Raekwon
Track: #6
Time: 6:02
Samples: "Ain't No Sunshine" - Michael Jackson
"You Know How to Make Me Feel So Good" - Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes
Movie Sample: "The Killer"

Can I get a guest review?

#21 Hellz Wind Staff
- Wu-Tang Forever
- 753 pts.

Streetlife/Ghostface Killah/Inspectah Deck/Method Man/RZA/Raekwon
Track: #12
Time: 4:52

Can I get a guest review?

#20 Verbal Intercourse
- Onl
y Built for Cuban Linx - 755 pts.

Nas/Ghostface Killah/Raekwon
Track: #12
Time: 3:31
"If You Think It (You May As Well Do It)" - The Emotions

The greatest guest performance on any Wu Tang song ever and there's not even an argument. Nas brings a presence to this song that many others who have followed have tried but failed to exceed. He belongs here, on this album, on this song. The beat is an enigma filled with ambient sounds and a sultry whispering woman's voice sample. The melody is a hook in and of itself. Is it a harmonica? A clarinet? I'm not too sure but what I am sure of is that it's one of the RZA's compositions.

The title alone is one of the greatest metaphors ever, as if that wasn't enough all three emcees spit rapid fire darts up and down and get a ton in with just a sparse three and a half minutes to do it. Nas' verse is a jump off that's so utterly unforgettable, it has been permanently ingrained in my mind, I will be a senile old man reciting that verse to pissed off bed nurses.

Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle

Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife

It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual

Raekwon takes right over with no pause at all in the action...

Perhaps bullets bust niggaz discuss mad money
True lies and white guys, we can see it through the eyes
Catch the most on tape, kilos disintegrate
Pyrex pots, we break, fiends lickin plates
In the building niggaz building, like little children starin
Them older niggaz aint carin
Sirens circlin fiends are lurkin in your baggage
oh, one's gone now, what, smack him in his cabbage
In the woodwork, crack cells bubble like Woolworth's
in the projects, richest niggaz rockin all the real worth
Police questioning, rooftop cats invested in
Tradin in they Lexus' GS's sendin messages
Two and two makes four, Cristal's crazily pour
Gun wars my crew phantom like swords

Once again no pause at all, no time to take your breath and here's Ghost ending this masterpiece with a big red cherry on top....

With the green leathers, hundred pound snakes and cakes
Fiends found in lakes, jealousy Jakes we shake
What I strive for is what I live for
Infatuated by material things, and it's wild like for war
like somewhere over the rainbow, I see a big pot of gold
Future stacks yo I hold
Thousands of cracks bagged up inside the shoebox
Don't keep jack in my lap, don't wanna see Tupac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs making me hot, crooked cops Bad Tony and the ball drop
In the Now, I'm bangin niggaz for slide time
Hurry up Duke I'm next, show em mine
And what the fuck is you looking at?
By the way young blood, hit me off with that Green Bay hat
Watch your back inside the hall, new niggaz slide through
like doors yo, you're starin in the mess hall
Your adrenaline runs, cigarette niggas be swindlin
New jacks surrenderin, come home not rememberin
Made bail with different size kicks on, a white dress shirt
Lookin gay in the yard, and you got hurt
Flashbacks, of the day room, mop ringer style
Your faggot ass got bashed tryin to turn the dial
You told your boo you was whylin
Once you heard Wu, out of the blue, your family's from Shaolin
High class cooks, throw on vestes out of phone books
Infirmary niggas are screaming, "I got drugs!"
Sharpen toothbrushes 190 mixed with baby oil and shit
Your man's in the kitchen stashing ice picks

Well I'ma end this with a big red cherry on top
Me, Nas and Rae got the best product on the block

The song ends with a really novel idea with overlapping outro hooks by Ghost and Rae...

Strength my whole team is eatin off this type of shit
Word up, throw your hands up
Good shit, nigga next time, no more whatever shit
Cock back the Mac an say whatever
Keep your eyes open and your wallet in your front pocket
Your Hawaiian's stale, exoticness, fly shit
RZA Chef Ghost and Nas niggaz is the prophet
Floatin on in nine-five in the basement

#19 Shimmy Shimmy Ya
- Return to the 36 Chambers : The Dirty Ver
sion - 774 pts.

Ol' Dirty Bastard
Track: #12
Time: 2:41
"Hip-Hug-Her" - Booker T & The MG's
"I Like It" - The Emotions
"Knocks Me Off My Feet"- Stevie Wonder
"Have Your Ass Home by 11:00" - Richard Prior

Can I get a guest review?

#18 Ice Cream
Only Built for Cuban Linx - 788 pts.

Method Man/Ghostface Killah/Raekwon/Cappadonna
Track: #15
Time: 4:12
"Dear Uncle Sam" - The Charmels

1995. Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. The Purple Tape. A song about women. Who better to do it than Ghostface, Mr Mef, Cappadonna and Raekwon. The third single off OB4CL brought us one of the greatest Wu songs of all time. While our main characters drop their verses that blow images of hotties in your mind, Method Man quietly steals the show with his catchy chorus and epic outro. His Stallion voice and his love for women put together will make you rewind, whether you like it or not, multiple times.

While all three main protagonists drop exceptional verses, none of that would be next level material if not for RZA's '96 beat style. With a simple melody consisting of 7 high end looping piano notes, and a subconscious hook that almost sounds like women shouting, it gets you in the mood immediately.

With Johnny Blaze opening the song with his chorus.....

Watch these rap niggaz get all up in your guts
French-vanilla, butter-pecan, chocolate-deluxe
Even caramel sundaes is gettin touched
And scooped in my ice cream truck, Wu tears it up

Ghostface Killah drops in as hard as they get, with a great flow structure and a visual verbal medley that he will go on to perfect later in his career.

Yo honey-dips, summertime, fine Jheri drippin
See you on Pickens with a bunch of chickens how you're clickin
I catch shootin strong notes as we got close
She rocked rope, honey throat smellin like Impulse
Your whole shell baby's wicked like Nimrod
Caught me like a fresh-water scrod, or may I not be God
Attitude is very rude Boo, crabby like seafood
It turns me on like Vassey and Lahrule
They call me Starky Love-hun, check the strategy
By any means, Shirley Temple cross was done by Billie Jean's
Black Misses America, your name is Erica, right true
Lazy eyeball, small piece, six shoe
Caramel complexion, breath smellin like cinnamon
Excuse me hon, the Don mean no harm, turn around again
God damn, backyard's bangin like a Benzy
If I was jiggy, you'd be spotted like Spud McKenzie
I'm high powered put Adina Howard to sleep
Yo pardon, that bitch been on my mind all week, but uhh

Back to you Maybelline Queen let's make a team
You can have anything in this world except CREAM

So whatchu wanna do? Whatchu wanna do?
Let's go ahead and walk these dogs and represent Wu

Raekwon's verse is pretty brief but loaded with slang which makes you think, and demands you listen to it again and again.

Shaolin's finest, whattup Boo, peace your highness
Yo I'm loungin, big dick style, y'all niggaz is the flyest
Moves you're making too fly jewels are shaking
not a rape patient, you're looking good fly colored Asian
Ghettoes, them is your hometown, we can go the whole round
After that, I'm shootin downtown
I'm rockin hats and you wig is all intact
Who's that queen bee chick, eyes curly black

Freaks be movin in fly sneaks
Two finger rings and gold teeth, and ain't afraid to hold heat

So when I step in the square dear
You better have CREAM to share, Ricans, ven aqui yeah

It's no secret Cappa is a fan of the ladies, and he demonstrates it with his own unique style.

Black chocolate girl wonder, shade brown like Thunder
Politic til your deficit step, gimme your number
Your sexy persuasive ta-ta's and thighs
Catch my eyes like highs I want your bodily surprise

Double dime some time, Ice Cream you got me falling out like a cripple,

I love you like I love my dick size

ooh baby I miss you, your sweet tender touches
take pulls off the dutches, orgasm in my mind state
masturbate in your clutches, I want you for self
like wealth, so play me closely
Bitches paranoia for the sting, who want the most of me
Only a hard dozen want to be callin' me cousin
Thirsty for my catalog, baby shoppin' spree you're lovin'
Call me if you want to get dug like the pockets
I jism like a giant break brooms out of their sockets

Method Man ends the song in a manner we will probably never see again. His outro hook is one of the best Wu-Moments ever.

Wu-Tang in the cut, for real niggaz what?
It's the after party and bitches want to fuck

Watch these rap niggaz get all up in your guts
French-vanilla, butter-pecan, chocolate-deluxe
Even caramel sundaes is gettin touched
And scooped in my ice cream truck, Wu tears it up

Ice cold bitches melt down when in the clutch
They want they titties sucked, ice cream

One love to my chocolate deluxes, keep your nails done
and your wigs tight, word up
One love to my butter-pecan Ricans for calling me papi
That's for real
One love to caramel sundaes, with the cherries on top
And big up to my french vanillas
Parlez vous, francais, mi amor, merci, oui oui, bon bons
and all that good stuff

***review by Shizzah
#17 Bring Da Ruckus
Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) -
821 pts. (1)

/Ghostface Killah/Raekwon/Inspectah Deck/GZA
Track: #1
Time: 4:10
"Synthetic Substitution" - Melvin Bliss
Movie Samples: Shaolin vs Wu-Tang,
Ten Tigers from Kwangtung

The opening track of just about the greatest hip hop album of all time, is an attention grabber of the highest level. Nothing gets me more hyped than hearing that first sample and knowing whats to come.

Shaolin shadowboxing, and the Wu-Tang sword style
If what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang could be dangerous
Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?
En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style

Nothing is usual here, it's about as far from what was considered normal hip hop at the time. This is a hardcore battle track, not for virgin ears and certainly not for the over-zealous religious types or easy listening buffs. The drum kit is hard hitting and contains an unusual thumb snap in the percussion. The melody (if you can call it that) consists of sound effects that separately would scare dogs away but together mesh like a grandma's knitted sweater.

After the Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang sample, Ghost sets things off properly, never having reached this level of amped-upped-ness subsequently.

Ghostface, Catch the blast of a hype verse
My glock bursts, leave in a hearse, I did worse

I come rough, tough like an elephant tusk
Your head rush, fly like Egyptian musk

Aw shit, Wu-Tang Clan spark the wicks an'
however, I master the trick just like Nixon,
causin' terror, quick damage your whole era
Hardrocks is locked the fuck up, or found shot
P.L.O. style, hazardous cause I wreck this dangerous
I blow sparks like Waco, Texas

Next up is Raekwon who introduces us to the familiar sound of the Wu, SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!

I watch my back like I'm locked down
Hardcore hittin' sound, watch me act bugged and tear it down
A literate type asshole, songs goin' gold, no doubt
and you watch a corny nigga fold
Yeah, they fake and all that
carryin' gats but yo, my Clan's rollin' like forty Macs
Now your act convinced, I guess it makes sense

Wu-Tang, goes suuuuuuuuu, represent

I wait for one to act up
Now I got him backed up Gun to his neck now, react, what?
And that's one in the chamber
Wu-Tang banger, 36 styles of danger

Now it's Deck's turn and he doesn't disappoint, dropping one of the hottest verses of all time. Don't believe it? Family guy quoted it and threw in a white people's translation. Just another classic moment brought to you by a classic song.

I rip it hardcore like porno-flick bitches
I roll with groups of ghetto bastards with biscuits

Check it, my method on the microphone's bangin'
Wu-Tang slang, I'll leave your headpiece hangin'
Bust this, I'm kickin' like Segall Out For Justice
The roughness, yes, the rudeness, ruckus
Redrum, I verbally assault with the tongue
Murder-one - my style shot your knot like a stun-gun
I'm hectic, I wreck it with the quickness,
set it on the microphone, and competition get blown
by this nasty-ass nigga with my nigga - the RZA,
charged like a bull and got pull like a trigga
So bad stabbin' up the pad with the vocab, crab

I scream on your ass like your dad!!! (bring it on...)

Gza takes the track in for a perfect 5.0 landing...

Yo, I'm more rugged than slaveman boots
New recruits, I'm fuckin' up MC troops
I break loops and trample shit while I stomp!
A mudhole in that ass, cause I'm straight out the swamp

creepin' up on site, now it's Fright Night
My Wu-Tang slang is mad fuckin' dangerous
and more deadly than the stroke of an axe
Choppin' through your back, *swish*
givin' by-standers heart-attacks
Niggas try to flip, tell me who is him?
I blow up his fuckin' prism, make it a vicious act of terrorism

You wanna bring it, so fuck it
Come on and bring the ruckus
And I provoke niggaz to kick buckets

I'm wettin' cream, I ain't wettin' fame
Who's sellin' gain I'm givin' out a deadly game
It's not the Russian, it's the Wu-Tang crushin' roulette
Slip up and get fucked like Suzette
Bring da fuckin' ruckus...

Songs rarely, if ever, kick serious ass like this one does. You are the roadrunner, and this joint is the anvil that gets dropped on your head.

#16 Reunited
Wu-Tang Forever - 840 pts.

Roxanne/GZA/Ol' Dirty Bastard/RZA/Method Man
Track: #2
Time: 5:21

It’s Wu motherfuckers, Wu-Tang motherfuckers…

The message of this hook performed by Roxanne explodes like a volcano in NYC with its molten core being Staten Island, swarming the world with a message that spread like wildfire that the Wu-Tang Clan is back and won’t be stopped.

The beat is composed with untamed strings that range from steady to screeching, overlayed with a hard rapping snare that drives the tempo. All emcees who grab the mic on this one do so without reservations, practically shouting the lyrics with an incredible energy.

GZA emerges with his mind-bending cerebral lyrics, making his verse unforgettable.

Reunited, double LP, we're all excited
Struck a match to the underground, industry ignited

from metaphorical parables to fertilize the Earth
Wicked niggaz come, try to burglarize the turf
Scattin off soft-ass beats them niggaz rap happily
Tragically, that style, deter-iate, rapidly
Uncompleted missions, throwin your best known compositions
You couldn't add it up, if you mastered addition
Where I come from, gettin visual is habitual
De-mon-strate walkin on hot coal, in rituals
I splash the paint on the wall, it formed the mural
He took a look, saw the manifestation of it, was plural
Rhymin while impaired, dart hit your garment
Pierced your internal, streamlined compartments

Just consider the unparallel advantage
Of a natural disaster that's impossible to manage

One hell of a way to end a verse, and it's only beginning because Dirty brings his insane flow to verse 2. He actually sounds drunk here as his bars all seem to slur together.

Bitch ass niggaz counterfeit the funk
I smoke the bead and the skunk, tree top of the trunk
Moonshine drunken monk, Ya HEAD, get shrunk
The touch of skunk, I be fuckin bitches by the chunk
my name black, do words wanna play in my dirt?
Bitch stop my momma serve, free lunch from the church
I come like a thousand doves
Bitch you quiet at the bus, makin the fuss, I gots tough love
Unglove the news, watch a nigga transfuse
Dirty add to the fuse, heavy at the booze
I don't walk, I get carried
Gold and platinum frisbees on my wall, lookin properly
but come-ly, I U.F.O. you Wright Brothers
The Indian that sold Manhattan to the white man
my grandfather, step up and get knocked right the fuck out
Come to the cook-out, Dirty bitch at the mouth
You scared? Run around like a plane about to crash

The first real sign of the Bobby Digital, Unspoken Word style is heard here by RZA, who amazes with his outstanding metaphors.

Yo, yo, The Riddler, funny bone tickler, freak Caligula
Bigger dick sex enigma pistol fertilize your stigma
Stinkbox, order from pink dot
MC's get stuck on ink blots as I plug to the sinkbox

Wu-Tang Incorp. take your brain on spacewalk
Talk strange like B-jork, great hero Jim Thorpe
How can I put it? Life is like video footage
Hard to edit, directors, that never understood it
I'm too impulsive, my deadly corrosive dosage
attack when you least notice through explosive postage
I don't play, the rap souflee sautee for the day
Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig A, Leg Leg Arm Head
Spread like plague, we drink Hennessee by the jig
I got the golden egg plus the goose
Eighty proof, Absolut, mixed with cranberry fruit juice
Ginseng boost, I got yo' neck in a noose
Keep my money wrinkled, the rap star twinkle killer instinct
sixteen bar nickle sell more copies than Kinko

Grow like a fetus with no hands and feet to complete us
and we return like Jesus, when the whole world need us

With an ending to his verse so extraordinary it's hard to imagine anyone following that, but Mef pulls anchor here, admirably so...

Is it appetite for destruction
Slap a murder rap on this production, I touch somethin trust nuttin
Iron Lung/Twisted Metal
I see em duckin my dart gun, bustin, from every angle
Worldwide total carnage, the sickest flow
that be code named Agent Orange, killin you slow
It's only right you pay homage
to those that's bout to blow like that shit up your nose, solid
as a rock when I strike target, verbal
Be screamin on you like a drill sergeant, herbals
got me where I wanna be right now, don't know the time
Check the hour on your sundial, watch me shine
Drunk off of cheap wine
Each line be on point when I speak mine

On behalf of my crew, SUUUUUUUUUUU, Enter the Wu
Thirty-Six more deadly Chambers, to take you through

Too hard the snares, too sharp the strings, too focused the generals, too timeless GZA’s introduction. As a jump off to the Clan’s sophomore album Wu-Tang Forever , the Clan shows why they are eligible for the crown in hip hop.

***review by GFX and Rock

#15 Liquid Swords
Liquid Swords - 853 pts.

Track: #1
Time: 4:31
"Mercy, Mercy, Mercy" - Willie Mitchell
"Groovin'" by Willie Mitchell
"That's the Way it Is" - Al Green
Movie Sample: Showgun Assassin

I can imagine this being the first song that many late coming Wu fans like skaters ever heard. And what a song to introduce you right? Start with probably the most recognizable Kung fu movie sample (Shogun Assassin) in the entire catalog and add a deliriously dreary beat mixed with fire by Gza on the mic and you have new lifelong fans.

The album opens with this track and this sample, used again in Kill Bill Volume 2...

When I was little... my father was famous.
He was the greatest sam-urai in the empire;
and he was the Shogun's decapitator.
He cut off the heads of a hundred and thirty-one lords.
It was a bad time for the empire.
The Shogun just stayed inside his castle -- and he never came out.
People said his brain was infected by DEVILS.
My father would come home -- he would forget about the killings.
He wasn't scared of the Shogun, but the Shogun was scared of him.
Maybe that was the problem.
Then, one night... the Shogun sent his ninja spies to our house.
They were supposed to kill my father... but they didn't.
*woman screams*
That was the night everything changed...

After the voice fades and we are introduced to RZA's strange dark beat consisting of sharp string jabs and hard snare raps. RZA opens...

See, sometimes...
You gotta flash em back
See niggaz don't know where this shit started
Y'all know where it came from
I'm sayin we gonna take y'all back to the swords
We bounce, yo

When the MC's came, to live our their name
And to perform (forrrrm)
Some had, to snort cocaine (caiiinnne) to act insane (sannne)

with before Pete Rock-ed it on, now gone
that the mental plane (plaaanne) to spark the brain
with the building to be born
Yo RZA flip the track with the what to guy
Check em check chicka icka etta UHH

GZA makes mincemeat of this track flipping metaphor after metaphor, omages everywhere, verbal jabs all over, and there is no pausing or slowing down, he's like a bulldozer.

Fake niggaz get blitzed
in mic fights I swing swords and cut clowns
Shit is too swift to bite you record and write it down
I flow like the blood on a murder scene, like a syringe
on some loud howl shit, to insert a fiend
But it was yo ock, the shop stolen heart
Catch a swollen heart from not rollin smart
I put mad pressure, on phony wack rhymes that get hurt
Shit's played, like zodiac signs on sweatshirt
That's minimum, and feminine like sandals
My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
that attack, the mic-phones like cyclones or typhoon
I represent from midnight to high noon

I don't waste ink, nigga I think
I drop megaton BOMBS more faster than you blink

Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
Clouds of smoke, of natural blends of weed
Only under one circumstance is if I'm blunted
Turn that shit up, my clan in da front want it

After the chorus comes on briefly, GZA reloads and fires again, his flow deftly matching the beat.

I'm on a Mission, that niggaz say is Impossible
But when I swing my swords they all choppable
I be the body dropper, the heartbeat stopper
Child educator, plus head amputator

Cause niggaz styles are old like Mark 5 sneakers
Lyrics are weak, like clock radio speakers

Don't even stop in my station and attack
while your plan failed, hit the rail, like Amtrak
What the fuck for? Down by law, I make law
I be justice, I sentence that ass two to four
round the clock, that state pen time check it
With the pens I be stickin but you can't stick to crime
Came through with the Wu, slid off on the DL
I'm low-key like seashells, I rock these bells
Now come aboard, it's Medina bound
Into the chamber, and it's a whole different sound

It's a wide entrance, small exit like a funnel
So deep it's picked up on radios in tunnels

Niggaz are fascinated how the shit begin
Get vaccinated, my logo is branded in your skin

Quite possibly GZA's best solo ever, he murks a relatively simple beat with incredible lyrics.

#14 Incarcerated Scarfaces
Only Built for Cuban Linx- 864 pts.

Track: #5
Time: 4:42
Samples: "You're Getting Too Smart" - Detroit Emeralds
"Wang Dang Doodle" by Koko Taylor

During the mid-nineties, at the height of Wu-Tang popularity, came the Cuban Linx saga, a time when mafioso nicknames and Wallaby Clarks was the norm. In that saga, came the greatest solo joint by Raekwon in the collection.

Starting off with a sample that appears to tell volumes about the drug game in just a short conversation, enter the greatest hi-hat/snare beat ever bangs your speakers. Again, RZA follows that principle
less is more, adding a perfectly fitting sample to it. It’s one of those instrumentals you can loop for hours without getting tired of it. The simplicity is just overwhelming. Rae enters the stage with an addictive hook that gets you hyped for this five minute long classic.

Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out
It's for real though, let's connect politic - ditto!
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases
Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces

Rae fires another bullet right away, going to work on his first verse. The first lines once again display that the clan knew their business, just dominating the industry single-handed.

Thug related style attract millions
Fans, they understand my plan
Who's the kid up in the green Land?

Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose
Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised

Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin
Shuttin down your slot; time for pumpin
Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps
Raise a heavy generator
But yo, guess who's the black Trump?
Dough be flowin by the hour's
Wu, we got the collars, scholars
Word life, peace to power and my whole unit
Word up! Quick to set it, don't wet it
Real niggas lick shots,

peace Connecticut

For two more lengthy verses, Raekwon continues to intrigue and amaze, bringing the house down all by himself.

Chef'll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable
Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue
But this time is for the uninvited
Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired
Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine
Niggaz recognize from here to Baltimore to Fort Greene
But hold up, Moet be tastin like throw-up
My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up
Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit Timbs
Wit Mac-10's and broke friends
Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do
you wanna battle for cash and see who Sun too?
I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax
niggaz lyrics is wack nigga
Can't stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin Scud missles
You rollin like Trump, you get your meat lumped
For real, it's just slang rap democracy
Here's the policy, slide off the ring, plus the Wallabees
Check the status, soon to see me at
Caesar's Palace eatin salads
We beatin mics and the keys to Dallas
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell
From where we at to my man's cell
From staircase to stage, minimun wage
But soon to get a article in RapPage
But all I need is my house, my gat, my Ac
Bank account fat - it's goin' down like that
And pardon the French but let me speak Italian
Black Stallion, dwellin on Shaolin
That means the island of Staten
And niggaz carry gats and mad police from Manhattan

I do this for barber shop niggaz in the Plaza
Catchin asthma, Rae is stickin gun-flashers
Well-dressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one
upstairs, swithc like a chameleon
Hip Brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children
Leave the buildin
Niggas, yo they be foldin' like envelopes under pressure
Like Lou Farigno on coke
Yo, Africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs
Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the Arabs
Sit back, coolin like Kahlua's on rocks
On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots
You bitches who fuck dreds on Sudafeds
Pussy's hurtin, they did it for a yard for the Feds
Word up cousin, nigga, I seen it
Like a 27-inch Zenith - believe it!

With an instantly a repeatable hook, and three great verses by the Chef, the Corp voted to make this track an instant classic.

***Review by The GFX

#13 Brooklyn Zoo
Return to the 36 Chambers : The Dirty Version - 903 pts.

Ol' Dirty Bastard
Producer:True Master/Ol' Dirty Bastard
Track: #4
Time: 3:37

Arguably the best thing True Master has ever done artistically. Amazingly no samples are used here. This ingenious melody was spawned out of thin air. Break down the off key piano chords and the baseline into just themselves and what do have? Zero. Nothing. Something that is unlistenable. Put them together and what you have is an eclectic melody that wraps around you like the arms of an octupus and sucks you in. New math : 0+0 = 5 star status, and that's just the beat. Add Dirty's crazy lyrics, voice inflections and eerie background noise and it may even exceed the classic status to a plane even higher if possible.

Dirty opens the proceedings in typical Dirty fashion, blatant brash, and full of bravado, while his comerades in the backround fully encourage him to act crazy.

Word up, I bust that nigga ass right now!
Ain't none of them niggaz can't fuck with me!
What? Nigga you could never fuck with me, my nigga!
(Ol' Dirty) I'll fuck you up right now! What? What? What?
Bust your motherfuckin ass boy! I ain't no motherfuckin joke
You know who you talkin to?
(Word up, bust that nigga ass, word up)
Ol' Dirty Bastard y'knahmsayin? I'll fuck you up right now!
Yeah, what? What?
(Get that nigga yo! He ain't sayin nothin, fuck him!)

The Red Sox fans have a saying about Manny Ramirez' laid back blazay attitude, "It's just Manny being Manny", well this is just Dirty being Dirty, no apologies necessary. Dirty opens his verse and you are taken on a roller coaster of flamboyant lyrics and voice inflections.

I'm the one-man army, Ason
I've never been tooken out, I keep MC's lookin out
I drop science like girls be droppin babies
Enough to make a nigga go cra-a-azy
Energy buildin, takin all types of medicines
Your ass thought you were better than
Ason, I keep planets in orbit
While I be comin with teeth, bitin more shit
Enough to make ya break and shake ya ass
Cause I create, rhymes good as a Tasty Cake, mix
This style, I'm mastered in
Niggas catchin headaches, what? What? You need aspirin?
This type of pain, you couldn't even kill with Midol
Fuck around get sprayed with Lysol
In your face like a can of mace, baby
Is it burnin? Well fuck it, now you're learnin
How, I don't even like your motherfuckin profile
Give me my fuckin shit, CH-CH-BLAOW!
Not seen and heard, no one knows
You forget, niggaz be quiet as kept
Now you know nothin; before you knew a whole fuckin lot
Your ass don't wanna get shot!
A lot of MC's came to my showdown
To watch me put your fuckin ass lo-o-ow down
As you can go, below zero
Without a doubt I've never been tooken out
By a nigga, who couldn't figure
Yo by a nigga, who couldn't figure
Yo by a nigga, who couldn't figure (Brooklyn Zoo)
How to pull a fuckin gun trigger
I said, "Get the fuck outta here!"
Nigga wanna get too close, to the utmost
But I got stacks that'll attack any wack host
Introducin, yo FUCK that nigga's name!
My hip-hop drops on your head like ra-a-ain
And when it rains it pours, cause my rhymes hardcore
That's why I give you more of the raw
Talent that I got will riz-ock the spot
MC's I'll be bur-r-rnin, bur-r-rnin hot
Whoa-hoa-hoa! Let me like slow up with the flow
If I move too quick, oh, you just won't know
I'm homicidal when you enter the target
Nigga get up, act like a pig tryin to hog shit!
So I take yo ass out quick
The mics, I've had it my nigga, you can suck my dick
If you wanna step to my motherfuckin rep'
CH-CH-BLAOW! BLAOW! BLAOW! Blown to death
You got shot cause you knock knock knock
"Who's there?" Another motherfuckin hardrock
Slackin on your mackin 'cause raw's what you lack
You wanna react? Bring it on back...

The hook is on outro and it is one of the greatest in the Wu-Tang collective.

Shame on you, when you step through to
The Ol' Dirty Bastard, Brooklyn Zoo!

The lyrics are bananas, the hook instantly quotable and beloved by true fans of the Wu. If you really want to know who is Dirty? Listen to this song. It encompasses the man himself in all his glory.

#12 Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin' to Fuck Wit'
Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) - 968 pts.

RZA/Inspectah Deck/Method Man
Producer:RZA/Method Man
Track: #7
Time: 3:36
"Impeach the President" - The Honey Drippers
"Hihache" - Lafayette Afro Rock Band
"Nobody Beats the Biz" - Biz Markie
The "Underdog" Theme

Amped. That's the word that comes to mind when describing this classic. A beat with finger snap percussion, the very dirty drum kit, and the typical synthesized instruments that scream Wu Tang. Add the "tiger-style" voice sample and monk-like humming and it's all great and all Wu Tang. Rza and Mef (Co-prod.) provide some of their finest work here.

RZA opens with an intro, his voice gritty as ever.

Tiger style
Yo, huh, huh

Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit

Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit

Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit

There's no place to hide once I step inside the room

Dr. Doom, prepare for the boom

JAM, now scream like Tarzan

he coninues into his verse, short but sweet.

I be tossin, enforcin, my style is awesome
I'm causin more Family Feud's than Richard Dawson
And the survey said -- ya dead
Fatal Flying Guillotine chops off your fuckin head
MZA who was that? Aiyyo, the Wu is back
Makin niggaz go BO BO!, like I'm Super Cat
Me fear no-one, oh no, here come
The Wu-Tang shogun, killer to the eardrum!

Deck comes out firing immediately on verse 2...

I puts the needle to the groove, I gets rude
And I'm forced to fuck it up
My style carries like a pickup truck
Across the clear blue yonder
Seek the China Sea, I slam tracks like quarterbacks sacks from L.T.
Now why try and test, the Rebel INS?
Blessed since the birth, I earth-slam your best
Cause I bake the cake, then take the cake
and eat it, too, with my crew while we head state to state!

...and RZA continues with one of the hardest hooks you will ever hear.

And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with
Straight from the motherfucking slums that's busted
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with

RZA then briefly introduces Mef who laces the track with one of his finest verses ever. Voice inflection, flow, and energy are all at their highest levels.

The Meth will come out tomorrow,
Styles, is wild, berserk, bizarro
Flow, with more afro than Rollo
Comin to a fork in the road which way to go just follow
Method, the Legend, niggaz is Sleepy Hollow
In fact I'm a hard act to follow
I dealt for dolo, Bogart comin on through
Niggaz is like "Oh, my God, not you!"
Yes, I, come to get a slice of the punk and the pie
Rather do than die, check my
flava, comin from the RZA
which is short for the razor
Who make me reminisce true like Deja, Vu!

I'm rubber, niggaz is like glue
Whatever you say rubs off me sticks to you

The song concludes with RZA naming everybody they are down with, and it takes a while because he pretty much names the whole world, kinda giving the listener a grasp of the Clan's reach and popularity.

#11 Glaciers of Ice
Only Built for Cuban Linx - 1054 pts.

Raekwon/Ghostface Killah/Blue Raspberry/60 Second Assassin/Masta Killa
Track: #11
Time: 5:21
"Children, Don't Get Weary" - Booker T. & the MG's

Zone the fuck out and smoke a joint when you are hearing arguably one of the top 3 songs on the hip hop classic "Only Built for Cuban Linx."

Just Ghost talking about rocking his Clarks in the summer is classic shit, but when the beat drops its on!!! The beat has a simple boom bap drum pattern that makes you break your neck, and a catchy ass Zelda video game sounding melody... a melody that makes you 1) lay the fuck back and smoke a blunt or 2) go fuck someone up on some silent assasin shit. One of RZA's all time gems.

Lets not forget about Blue Raspberry's hypnotizing vocals which add a lot to the track especially in the end.

This is one of the tastiest Wu-Tang sandwitches you can ever have: Raekwon, Masta Killa (who obliterates the track) and Ghostface Killah.

Rae sets this shit up epicly:

Stand on the block Reebok gun cocked
Avalance rock get paid off mass murderous services

and then continues to verbally molest the beat.

Then theres Masta Killah (OH MY!!!)

Proceed with caution as you enter the symphony
Degrees of pulse will increase intensely
Syndrome was caused by the deadly drums
But the battle was won by swords being swung
Slicing with a vocal
From the international vocalist
Ya style is too local
To fuck with this
All fits of antagonists
No assistance movin motionless
Mysterious swiftness
Thoughts roll down the shaft of the brain
Mental gives the signal to the physical
Whirlwind kicks and hits from every angle
Violent temperments
Uncountenance dented
Poison vintage wine rhymes I invented
Chumped by the drunken punches that punches the heart
Vital sparks from the arteries start

This verse is Masta Killah at his best!!!

Ghost of course has to shine because hes Ghost!!! and he always comes thought with his flashy "I get money" pretty boy rhymes:

Chill on the whips to settle this, we can all get laced
Take a boat cruise, sip daquiris and max swimmin pools/ Fly jewels Wally shoes blow stacks relax kid
black kids got a cravin for grapes until we get back

And of course the unforgetable:

My seeds growin his seeds marry his seeds
that's how we keep Wu-Tang money all up in the family

The song ends with 60 Second Assasin laying down a little singing which is dope...

it's been a long time...
since Wu-Tang family came to shine...

Certified "YO play that shit again" track.

***review by InspectahChek
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