[{"id":32513376,"name":"third world","trackName":"third world","artistName":"Rza","albumName":"Razor_Sharp_Vol.1_(CD1)","duration":246.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: third world\n  artist: Rza\n  album: Razor_Sharp_Vol.1_(CD1)\n  duration_ms: 246000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":31796198,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA","albumName":"The Soul Assassins (Chapter 1)","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA\n  album: The Soul Assassins (Chapter 1)\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":35511189,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA","albumName":"Muggs Presents... The Soul Assassins Chapter I","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA\n  album: Muggs Presents... The Soul Assassins Chapter I\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":38132118,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA","albumName":"Hidden Chambers","duration":184.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA\n  album: Hidden Chambers\n  duration_ms: 184000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":37473737,"name":"Third World (feat. GZA & RZA)","trackName":"Third World (feat. GZA & RZA)","artistName":"DJ Muggs, Gza, RZA","albumName":"Bob Spotify - 2,799 Hip Hop Songs","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World (feat. GZA & RZA)\n  artist: DJ Muggs, Gza, RZA\n  album: Bob Spotify - 2,799 Hip Hop Songs\n  duration_ms: 251876\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":32439900,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA & GZA","albumName":"The Soul Assassins (Chapter I)","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA & GZA\n  album: The Soul Assassins (Chapter I)\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":32409820,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA & GZA/Genius","albumName":"Lossless 1990s Singles","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA & GZA/Genius\n  album: Lossless 1990s Singles\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":40080801,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"RZA & GZA/Genius","albumName":"Muggs Presents... The Soul Assassins Chapter I","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: RZA & GZA/Genius\n  album: Muggs Presents... The Soul Assassins Chapter I\n  duration_ms: 252090\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":32255520,"name":"Third World Feat Rza","trackName":"Third World Feat Rza","artistName":"Gza (Genius)","albumName":"Collection Of Classics","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World Feat Rza\n  artist: Gza (Genius)\n  album: Collection Of Classics\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":38070633,"name":"Third World","trackName":"Third World","artistName":"DJ Muggs feat. GZA/Genius & RZA","albumName":"Muggs Presents… the Soul Assassins Chapter I","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World\n  artist: DJ Muggs feat. GZA/Genius & RZA\n  album: Muggs Presents… the Soul Assassins Chapter I\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":32498310,"name":"Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)","trackName":"Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)","artistName":"RZA & GZA","albumName":"Defiant's HipHop & Underground Rap Collection Vol.3","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)\n  artist: RZA & GZA\n  album: Defiant's HipHop & Underground Rap Collection Vol.3\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":36581811,"name":"Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)","trackName":"Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)","artistName":"RZA & GZA","albumName":"CD1 defiant's HipHop & Underground Rap Collection Vol. 3 (2009)","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Third World (Prod. by DJ Muggs)\n  artist: RZA & GZA\n  album: CD1 defiant's HipHop & Underground Rap Collection Vol. 3 (2009)\n  duration_ms: 252000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"},{"id":37164525,"name":"RZA & GZA/Genius / Third World","trackName":"RZA & GZA/Genius / Third World","artistName":"DJ Muggs","albumName":"The Soul Assassins Chapter I","duration":253.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOne two\nOne two\nAyo, Wu-Tang's invincible\nBut who that? Better despair the principal\nMy man Bugz\nDropping fat tracks like drugs\n\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nWrecker, wrecker, one two\nYeah, break it up, break it up\n\nPeace\n\nWe're at the crossroads\nOur immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\nBig satellite from the Wu mansion\n\nStill branching off the tree that sparked any MC\nAnd the fruit that fell far was the ripest\nGive it Cypress, let the media hype this\nPromotion niggas snipe this\nPush it like trade badge in '72\nKept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\nWho flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\nIn jams packed like jail cells\nThere's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\nNiggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\nMy sword indeed make more niggas bleed\nSo swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\nI lost ya with that offer\nNigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\nMust have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\nThat got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\nI told him come back when you're sober\nDrunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\nDon't even catch me while I'm blunted\nRhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\nInstruments of terror on warship with corporate\nVisual niggas paint portraits\n\nYo, check the mic line for wiretaps\nWe're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\nFire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\nInsert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\nCatch web sites like internet\nSee, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\nPassing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\nSound the alarm\nCall for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\nFlashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\nAnytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\nSend 'em back like George McFly\n\nI, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\nPoisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\nLike Ghost is faceless\nWhich allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\nMC's heads weave like trees\nIn a breeze to rhymes like these\n\nUnderwater flows strike like torpedoes\nYou get plugged more than Del Rio\n\nPlayed short like DeVito\nSplit the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\nSword cut sharper than Concord needles\nCall my second private\nTell him write this important message to Cypress\nI heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\nAnd they just released a new deadly virus\nTo infiltrate the Western states\n\nIt's time to pump out more rap tapes\nAnd use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\nBrother, over and out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: RZA & GZA/Genius / Third World\n  artist: DJ Muggs\n  album: The Soul Assassins Chapter I\n  duration_ms: 253000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah\n  One two\n  One two\n  Ayo, Wu-Tang's invincible\n  But who that? Better despair the principal\n  My man Bugz\n  Dropping fat tracks like drugs\n\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Wrecker, wrecker, one two\n  Yeah, break it up, break it up\n\n  Peace\n\n  We're at the crossroads\n  Our immediate future is the worst war man will ever know\n\n  Big satellite from the Wu mansion\n\n  Still branching off the tree that sparked any MC\n  And the fruit that fell far was the ripest\n  Give it Cypress, let the media hype this\n  Promotion niggas snipe this\n  Push it like trade badge in '72\n  Kept niggas in suede rags, microphone psycho\n  Who flips the mic so well? Hell without bell\n  In jams packed like jail cells\n  There's no escaping, once my blade start scraping\n  Niggas flaking, wannabe MCs is shaking\n\n  My sword indeed make more niggas bleed\n  So swift, naked eye couldn't record the speed\n  I lost ya with that offer\n  Nigga that'll cost ya, feel the springs of torture\n  Must have been the half gal that's the shit he drinking\n  That got him thinking that he can trash the ship and get me sinking\n  I told him come back when you're sober\n  Drunk ass punk on a motherfucking hunt for Red October\n  Don't even catch me while I'm blunted\n  Rhymes start running like loops on an SP-1200\n\n  Instruments of terror on warship with corporate\n  Visual niggas paint portraits\n\n  Yo, check the mic line for wiretaps\n  We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed\n\n  Fire back, all hands on deck, cadet vests\n  Insert cassettes, tracks snap heads like barrettes\n  Catch web sites like internet\n  See, I detect the vehicles approaching from the east\n  Passing infrared binoculars, Captain so I can see\n\n  Sound the alarm\n  Call for the suicidal kamikaze ninjas with the bombs\n\n  Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms\n  Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply\n\n  Send 'em back like George McFly\n\n  I, beholden this, travel ground like a motorist\n  Poisonous gas released from my track is odorless and tasteless\n  Like Ghost is faceless\n  Which allow the God to break backs and beat a hundred cases\n\n  MC's heads weave like trees\n  In a breeze to rhymes like these\n\n  Underwater flows strike like torpedoes\n  You get plugged more than Del Rio\n\n  Played short like DeVito\n  Split the fuck up like Mike, Jack and Tito\n  Sword cut sharper than Concord needles\n  Call my second private\n  Tell him write this important message to Cypress\n  I heard y'all crew assisted on the island with Dr. Titus\n  And they just released a new deadly virus\n  To infiltrate the Western states\n\n  It's time to pump out more rap tapes\n  And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate\n  Brother, over and out\n"}]