Wu Tang Clan - Mortal Kombat | Текст песни

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• Wu Tang Clan
• Mortal Kombat

[Intro]
Perverted Monks style
'99 style, knowhatimsayin?
Comin at cha, this how we do
[Afu-Ra]
Paraplegic, my fightin stance too strategic
No shadows on my kicks too much Chi horrific
To be specific, I'm comin threw with jiu-jitsu
Bone crushin bone breakin as I get into
Scorpion styles, with the speed of a cheetah
Hit your pressure points with light skills, I be
The blaster, Iron Palms is elemental
Combinations damagin nations in the mental
Cerebral cortex is obsolete
You'll die ten times if you try to test me
Taoist master, rhyme style disaster
Studied on the cliffs of mountains readin scrolls
Holdin it down, iron shirt chigung
Apprentice in the temple with Guang Jung Nim
I went through torture deadly styles I'm the author
Ingested metals, yeah they made me supernova
Triple spinnin kicks, side kicks, and hook kicks
They come much iller, so you must be Masta Killa
[Chorus 2X]
It's Afu, change my style, change the weather
It's Afu, change your mind, just too clever
It's Afu, all the weak styles I sever
Combinin two styles on the mic with Masta Killa
[Masta Killa]
The great ones have searched for the righteous data
To show and prove and master the separation of matter
And seein through death, never loose conscious of self
Shed a shell keep it movin factor
Sword swing it to the temple, mental state
Danger chamber, eighth yang slang, Wu-Tang
Train private soldiers in this rap game
Like that Shanghai chinky eyed chick from Bedstuy
Wang Chung from Lafayette, Stuyversant and Malcolm X
Fifty Seven Park, it might spark, it's the heart
One blood cell, featurin Masta Kill
After dark he goes, bust gone, trust none, touch one
Young chun, prodigal son, Killa Bees disease
Home grown, flown from over seas, city under siege
Ya eyes bleed, the weed got 'em red dread
Like spinnin roundhouse kicks to the head, he dead
[Chorus 2X]

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