[{"id":6154643,"name":"Clans & Cliks","trackName":"Clans & Cliks","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"},{"id":11185017,"name":"Clans & Cliks","trackName":"Clans & Cliks","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Smif‐n‐Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Smif‐n‐Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"},{"id":11185019,"name":"Clans & Cliks","trackName":"Clans & Cliks","artistName":"Price, Sean feat. Smif‐n‐Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks\n  artist: Price, Sean feat. Smif‐n‐Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"},{"id":29063298,"name":"Clans & Cliks","trackName":"Clans & Cliks","artistName":"Sean Price feat. Smif n Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":332.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks\n  artist: Sean Price feat. Smif n Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 332000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"},{"id":6154644,"name":"Clans & Cliks (feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)","trackName":"Clans & Cliks (feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks (feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"},{"id":29368580,"name":"Clans & Cliks (Feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)","trackName":"Clans & Cliks (Feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)","artistName":"Sean Price","albumName":"Imperius Rex","duration":332.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Shame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nAyo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\nLet off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\nDied with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\nVanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\nRock is a damn animal, monster\nBigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\nBrownsville crook, get bright with the beam\nTake your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\nMonsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\nFlow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\nSee that white light flash right before I hit you\nI should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\nI'm so forreal, so physically ill\nSickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\nCan't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\nWu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIt's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\nImpact'll blow trees back and crack statues\nOne thing's for sure, two things for certain\nGun game is raw, I do things in person\nFace my fears, fears embraced make this clear\nThat ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\nP, now back to my typical verse\nMurder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\nChief hard bars\nBullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\nBloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\nStudyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\nKnowledge my wisdom\nSee me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\nI got three kids and claim two on taxes\nPopped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nThis for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\nMotorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\nHood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\nFlooded with 40 karats of Pringles\nA vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\nLook at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\nBrick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\nYo slide off and rewind the time\nShould the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\nThis the movie makin' [?]\nBuy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\nOven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\nYou not real, you fuck around and get lined\nThis is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\nGivin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\nMeet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\nMeet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\nShame on a nigga that try to run game\nGet a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\nOne nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\nWe the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\nThis a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\nThe 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\nMagnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\nBasic training's over, time to war\n\nIncarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\nJust comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\nThem the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\nNew niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\nOn some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\nBust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\nFuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\nI flow fluently, who I be? That villain\nOf your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\nWe don't need that, do we? Do we?\nJust keep it rap, groovy\nThat lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\nHooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\nMonkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\nI ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\nI might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\nReal fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\nThrowin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\nKnow the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\nLeg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\nI Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\nGZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\nCap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga\nBoot Camp, nigga\nWu-Tang, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Clans & Cliks (Feat. Smif N Wessun, Rock, Method Man, Raekwon, Inspectah Deck & Foul Monday)\n  artist: Sean Price\n  album: Imperius Rex\n  duration_ms: 332000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' msystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Ayo the rap nigga got a shotgun in his hand\n  Let off, the wheelchair nigga got up and ran\n  Died with his man, shot up the cameras, hopped in the van\n  Vanished, but sun will come out tomorrow and blam\n  Rock is a damn animal, monster\n  Bigfoot, I will sasquatch ya to Godzilla, take a quick look\n  Brownsville crook, get bright with the beam\n  Take your french vanilla, butter pecan, ya ice and your cream\n\n  Monsta Rockness with my nigga Hot Nix\n  Flow like a pound of loud how we got the spot lit\n  See that white light flash right before I hit you\n  I should've just rocked pinstripes with the whistle, I'm so official\n  I'm so forreal, so physically ill\n  Sickness, no cure, no prescription or pill\n  Can't stop the head crack, this is two 5's and a 6\n  Wu-Camp Clik, you know my niggas do that shit, do that shit\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  It's only natural, actual facts are thrown at you\n  Impact'll blow trees back and crack statues\n  One thing's for sure, two things for certain\n  Gun game is raw, I do things in person\n  Face my fears, fears embraced make this clear\n  That ain't fear no man except God, you hear?\n  P, now back to my typical verse\n  Murder, death, kill, Brownsville, don't get hurt, P\n  Chief hard bars\n  Bullet to your brain frame is beef tartare\n  Bloody and gun hungry, fallin' back with the war tower\n  Studyin' 120, call me back at the god hour\n  Knowledge my wisdom\n  See me with Bernadette, you best acknowledge my wisdom\n  I got three kids and claim two on taxes\n  Popped three wigs and made two closed caskets, Wu-Tang\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  This for diamond rockers, ice lit, known to take off in choppers\n  Motorcycle gloves on, drugs in the Benz poppers\n  Hood caviar, been savvy, God, Harry Winston bangles\n  Flooded with 40 karats of Pringles\n  A vet rhymer, fly as a jetliner\n  Look at the wall, mad pictures of my team, I regret grindin'\n  Brick paper, flip paper, known to just vic paper\n  Yo slide off and rewind the time\n  Should the crumbs peep and my niggas we eatin'\n  This the movie makin' [?]\n  Buy big jewels, fuck with the dimes\n  Oven roast one of y'all post and tryna be the most\n  You not real, you fuck around and get lined\n  This is facts, either you winnin', god, or gettin' taxed\n  Givin' zippers, chest cave niggas and give 'em that\n  Meet the fly Jameson boys, 10 to 12 toys\n  Meet the voices, buy your bitch oysters and blow her back out\n\n  Shame on a nigga that try to run game\n  Get a hollow point brooded in your brain, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  One nation for the people, ain't nobody equal\n  We the chosen few, here to go insane, Boot Camp, nigga\n  This a chessboxin' mystery and goin' down in history\n  The 36th chamber full of flames, Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Magnum Force on the Last Stand, the world is in my hands\n  Basic training's over, time to war\n\n  Incarcerated scarfaces, Cuban links and matchin' bracelets\n  Just comin' home from catchin' violent drug cases\n  Them the niggas I be fuckin' with and groupie niggas eat a dick\n  New niggas out here doin' way too much sucker shit\n  On some wack shit, fuck this rap shit\n  Bust a Gat shit, Dru won't know what happened\n  'Cause I do a Doley, potato over pistoli\n  Fuck your fame, I want your life, fuck your Rollie, Wu-Tang\n\n  I flow fluently, who I be? That villain\n  Of your beeswax, ease back 'fore I squeeze Gats\n  We don't need that, do we? Do we?\n  Just keep it rap, groovy\n  That lean and skinny jeans, that's why you rap booty\n  Hooties, kids in the hall, this is bigger than y'all\n  Monkeys in the middle, I'm like middle finger 'em all\n  I ain't got no issues, if you scared then get you a dog\n  I might Michael Vick you, take from the rich and give to the poor\n\n  Real fire, man, grip the iron, man, like Tony Stark\n  Throwin' darts, watch the shallow farce, all the homies sharks\n  Know the arts, Masta Killa bars holdin' Golden Arms-\n  Leg-Leg-Arm-Head to toe, dipped in camouflage\n  I Inspectah Deck rep Decepticons\n  GZA with the RZA, y'all pawns on the chessboard\n  Cap ya dons, Chef up hard bars, this is god degree\n  Float like a butterfly, sting like a killer bee\n\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n  Boot Camp, nigga\n  Wu-Tang, nigga\n"}]