Da Mystery of Chessboxin'
Da Mystery of Chessboxin'

Wu‐Tang Clan - Da Mystery of Chessboxin' Lyrics

Hip-Hop/Rap
Oct 26, 2004
496
Da Mystery of Chessboxin' Music Video

Da Mystery of Chessboxin' Lyrics

The game of chess is like a sword fight
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

Raw I'ma 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 pushing force, my force you're doubting
I'm making devils cower to the Caucus Mountains

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 coming through with nuff niggas, and nuff guns
So if you wanna come sweating, stressing contesting
You'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection
Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk
Phony niggas are outlined in chalk
I'm mad vexed, it's what the projects made me
Rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me
Steamrolling niggas like a eighteen wheeler
With a drunk driver driving, there's no surviving

Rough like Timberland wear, yeah
Me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there
Peace to all the crooks, all the niggas with bad looks
Bald heads, braids, blow this hook
We got chrome Tecs, nickel plated Macs
Black Ac's, drug dealing 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
Lamping in a Lexus eating beef
Straight up and down don't even bother
I got forty niggas up in here now, who kill niggas fathers

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?
Smoking meth hitting cats on the block with the gats

Here I go, deep type flow
Jacques Cousteau could never get this low
I'm cherry bombing shits, Boom
Just warming up a little bit, vroom vroom
Rappining is what's happening
Keep the pockets stacked and then, hands clapping 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
Guff puff? I'm gonna catch your bluff tuff
Rough, kicking rhymes like Jim Kelly
Or Alex Haley I'm a Mi-Beetle Bailey rhymes
Coming raw style, hardcore
Niggas be coming to the hip-hop store
Coming to buy grocery from me
Trying 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, Abbott, RZA, Shaquan, Inspectah Deck
Dirty Ol' getting low wit his flow
Introducing, the Ghostface Killah!
No one could get iller

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?
Smoking meth hitting cats on the block with the gats

Speaking 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 kicking that fast shit
You reneged tried again, and got blasted
Half mastered ass style mad ruff task
When I struck I had on Timbs and a black mask
Remember that shit? I know you don't remember jack
That night yo I was hitting 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 running with thugs that flood mugs
So grab your 8 plus 1, start flipping and tripping
Niggas is jetting I'm licking off son

Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang!

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 coming at ya
We have an APB on an MC Killer
Looks like the work of a Master
Evidence indicates that his 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
Disguised like a lie paralyzing the victim
You scream, as it enters your bloodstream
Erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain
Moving on a nigga with the speed of a centipede
And injure any motherfucking contender!

Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Corey Woods, Dennis David Coles, Gary E. Grice, Jason Hunter, Lamont Hawkins, Robert F. Diggs, Russell T. Jones
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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