[{"id":33123720,"name":"Wu-Tang Clan - Tang Clan, Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Wu-Tang Clan - Tang Clan, Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu-Tang Clan","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.11] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.24] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.32] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.83] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.21] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.17] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.63] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.83] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.13] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.58] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.30] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.69] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.57] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.18] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.58] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.00] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.43] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.87] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.36] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.04] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.72] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.97] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.41] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.93] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.49] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.75] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.06] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.81] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.89] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.41] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.50] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.32] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.19] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.76] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.22] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.63] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.15] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.31] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.14] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.00] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.04] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.67] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.21] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.03] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.22] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.83] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.22] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.04] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.69] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.10] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.68] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.18] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.65] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.34] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.69] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.14] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.71] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.29] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.75] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.02] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.72] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.14] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.78] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.74] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.28] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.89] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.39] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.24] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.82] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.03] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.26] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.95] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.35] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.20] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.80] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.36] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.18] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.23] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.63] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.67] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Wu-Tang Clan - Tang Clan, Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu-Tang Clan\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 3110\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3110\n end_ms: 8240\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8240\n end_ms: 10860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10860\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16320\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16320\n end_ms: 18830\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18830\n end_ms: 21210\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21210\n end_ms: 26170\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26170\n end_ms: 29630\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29630\n end_ms: 33830\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33830\n end_ms: 37130\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37130\n end_ms: 39580\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39580\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44300\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44300\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49690\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49690\n end_ms: 53570\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53570\n end_ms: 57180\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57180\n end_ms: 60580\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60580\n end_ms: 63000\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63000\n end_ms: 65430\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65430\n end_ms: 66870\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66870\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72360\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72360\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76040\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76040\n end_ms: 77720\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77720\n end_ms: 80970\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80970\n end_ms: 83410\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83410\n end_ms: 85750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85750\n end_ms: 88280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88280\n end_ms: 90930\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90930\n end_ms: 93490\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93490\n end_ms: 95750\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95750\n end_ms: 98060\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98060\n end_ms: 100810\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100810\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107890\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107890\n end_ms: 110410\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110410\n end_ms: 112500\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112500\n end_ms: 115320\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115320\n end_ms: 118190\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118190\n end_ms: 120760\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120760\n end_ms: 123220\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123220\n end_ms: 125630\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125630\n end_ms: 129150\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129150\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133310\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133310\n end_ms: 136140\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136140\n end_ms: 138000\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138000\n end_ms: 141040\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141040\n end_ms: 143420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143420\n end_ms: 145670\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145670\n end_ms: 148210\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148210\n end_ms: 151030\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151030\n end_ms: 153220\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153220\n end_ms: 155830\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155830\n end_ms: 158220\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158220\n end_ms: 161040\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161040\n end_ms: 163690\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163690\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168680\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168680\n end_ms: 171180\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171180\n end_ms: 173650\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173650\n end_ms: 176340\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176340\n end_ms: 178690\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178690\n end_ms: 181140\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181140\n end_ms: 183710\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183710\n end_ms: 186290\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186290\n end_ms: 188750\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188750\n end_ms: 191020\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191020\n end_ms: 193720\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193720\n end_ms: 196140\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196140\n end_ms: 198780\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198780\n end_ms: 200740\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200740\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205740\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210890\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210890\n end_ms: 213390\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213390\n end_ms: 215750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215750\n end_ms: 218240\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218240\n end_ms: 225820\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225820\n end_ms: 228030\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228030\n end_ms: 233260\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233260\n end_ms: 235950\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235950\n end_ms: 238350\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238350\n end_ms: 242200\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242200\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246800\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246800\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254360\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254360\n end_ms: 263180\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263180\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 268230\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268230\n end_ms: 270630\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270630\n end_ms: 272670\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272670\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":35245791,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Wu-Tang Clan Videos","duration":274.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Wu-Tang Clan Videos\n duration_ms: 274000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":23872639,"name":"clan in da front","trackName":"clan in da front","artistName":"wu-tang clan","albumName":"enter the wu-tang clan (36 chambers)","duration":273.2448512,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: clan in da front\n artist: wu-tang clan\n album: enter the wu-tang clan (36 chambers)\n duration_ms: 273245\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":18404247,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang Clan - 36 Chambers (Deluxe Version)","duration":273.371429,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang Clan - 36 Chambers (Deluxe Version)\n duration_ms: 273371\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":18155142,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang Clan - 36 Chambers (Deluxe Version) [Explicit]","duration":273.371429,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang Clan - 36 Chambers (Deluxe Version) [Explicit]\n duration_ms: 273371\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":790299,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":14255759,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu‐Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu‐Tang","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu‐Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu‐Tang\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":37407979,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02]Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14]It's the ghost\n[00:05.94]Killah\n[00:10.51]Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85]Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68]Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84]Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07]Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95]The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39]Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32]Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36]Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07]The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05]Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46]Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90]The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27]Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13]The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50]Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57]Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65]Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12]Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20]Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05]Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51]Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27]The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51]The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66]Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48]Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99]Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27]Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90]The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73]Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01]On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31]I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08]Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00]'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85]And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05]Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45]Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75]Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58]One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12]With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52]Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23]Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88]So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13]I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30]Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62]Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44]God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29]Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27]Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66]Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69]Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03]Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77]The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96]Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86]Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23]Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05]I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64]How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10]'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66]I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37]You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61]What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38]Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65]Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41]How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73]I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21]And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77]Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29]He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99]I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19]So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72]You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23]Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28]Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75]Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94]Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10]Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59]Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02]Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98]Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15]Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52]Punks in the back\n[03:50.81]To what\n[03:53.72]Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19]Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57]Punks in the back\n[04:00.85]To what?\n[04:03.04]Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51]Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05]Wild for the night\n[04:09.30]Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78]Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96]Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 273267\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":2150612,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":790300,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":18029891,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"386 # Enter Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":273.266944,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: '386 # Enter Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)'\n duration_ms: 273267\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":18999679,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":275.2957819,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 275296\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":19073604,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers","duration":462.160175,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: 'Enter The Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers'\n duration_ms: 462160\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":16455770,"name":"Clan in Da Front","trackName":"Clan in Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"ter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers","duration":273.092062,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: ter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers\n duration_ms: 273092\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":22172965,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu‐Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":289.53136,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu‐Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 289531\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":22114378,"name":"Clan in Da Front","trackName":"Clan in Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu-Tang-36 Chamber","duration":273.27225,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the thirty six chambers\nIt's the ghost\nKillah\nWu-Tang\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\nThe Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\nGhostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\nRaw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\nTwelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\nThe Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\nShyheim AKA the Rugged Child\nDue Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\nThe True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla beez all over your fuckin' planet\nThirty six chambers of death\nThree hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\nPeace and every fuckin' borough\nCrooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\nThe sword, c'mon, give him the sword\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th street in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\nGeraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine, shine, shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\nPass the bone, kid pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\nOne who just represent the Wu-Tang click\nWith the game and soul, of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nThe response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\nYour wack ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants ahh human feces\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\nHow ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\nAnd my DJ the catcher, he's my man\nAnyway he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what\nNiggaz on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back\nTo what?\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\nNiggaz on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Up from the thirty six chambers\n[00:03.14] It's the ghost\n[00:05.94] Killah\n[00:10.51] Wu-Tang\n[00:11.85] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.68] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.84] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:19.07] Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.95] The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n[00:27.39] Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n[00:31.32] Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n[00:35.36] Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n[00:39.07] The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n[00:42.05] Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n[00:44.46] Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n[00:48.90] The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.27] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.13] The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n[01:00.50] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.57] Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.65] Thirty six chambers of death\n[01:07.12] Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.20] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n[01:12.05] Peace and every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.51] Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.27] The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n[01:18.51] The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n[01:22.66] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.48] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[01:25.99] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[01:28.27] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.73] Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:36.01] On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.31] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n[01:41.08] Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:43.00] 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.85] And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n[01:48.05] Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n[01:50.45] Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n[01:52.75] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n[01:55.58] One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n[01:58.12] With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n[02:00.52] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.23] Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n[02:05.88] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.13] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.30] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.62] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.29] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.27] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.66] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[02:25.69] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[02:28.03] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[02:30.77] The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n[02:33.96] Your wack ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.86] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.23] Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.05] I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n[02:43.64] How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n[02:46.10] 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.66] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.37] You become so pat as my style increases\n[02:53.61] What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n[02:56.38] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.65] Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n[03:01.41] How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.73] I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n[03:06.21] And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.77] Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.29] He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.99] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.72] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:21.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:23.28] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:27.94] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:31.10] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:33.59] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:36.02] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:37.98] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[03:41.15] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.52] Punks in the back\n[03:50.81] To what\n[03:53.72] Niggaz on the left\n[03:56.19] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.57] Punks in the back\n[04:00.85] To what?\n[04:03.04] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.51] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.05] Wild for the night\n[04:09.30] Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.78] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:27.96] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n[04:31.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu-Tang-36 Chamber\n duration_ms: 273272\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the thirty six chambers\n start_ms: 20\n end_ms: 3140\n- text: It's the ghost\n start_ms: 3140\n end_ms: 5940\n- text: Killah\n start_ms: 5940\n end_ms: 10510\n- text: Wu-Tang\n start_ms: 10510\n end_ms: 11850\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 11850\n end_ms: 13680\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13680\n end_ms: 16840\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16840\n end_ms: 19070\n- text: Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 19070\n end_ms: 21950\n- text: The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n start_ms: 21950\n end_ms: 27390\n- text: Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n start_ms: 27390\n end_ms: 31320\n- text: Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 31320\n end_ms: 35360\n- text: Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n start_ms: 35360\n end_ms: 39070\n- text: The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n start_ms: 39070\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 44460\n- text: Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n start_ms: 44460\n end_ms: 48900\n- text: The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 48900\n end_ms: 53270\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53270\n end_ms: 57130\n- text: The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n start_ms: 57130\n end_ms: 60500\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60500\n end_ms: 63570\n- text: Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63570\n end_ms: 65650\n- text: Thirty six chambers of death\n start_ms: 65650\n end_ms: 67120\n- text: Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 67120\n end_ms: 69200\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n start_ms: 69200\n end_ms: 72050\n- text: Peace and every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72050\n end_ms: 73510\n- text: Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73510\n end_ms: 76270\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n start_ms: 76270\n end_ms: 78510\n- text: The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n start_ms: 78510\n end_ms: 82660\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 82660\n end_ms: 83480\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 83480\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 88270\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 88270\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93730\n- text: Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93730\n end_ms: 96010\n- text: On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 96010\n end_ms: 98310\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n start_ms: 98310\n end_ms: 101080\n- text: Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 101080\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: '''Cuz the hoe didn''t win but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105850\n- text: And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105850\n end_ms: 108050\n- text: Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n start_ms: 108050\n end_ms: 110450\n- text: Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n start_ms: 110450\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 115580\n- text: One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n start_ms: 115580\n end_ms: 118120\n- text: With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118120\n end_ms: 120520\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120520\n end_ms: 123230\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123230\n end_ms: 125880\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125880\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131300\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131300\n end_ms: 133620\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133620\n end_ms: 136440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136440\n end_ms: 138290\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138290\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 143660\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 143660\n end_ms: 145690\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 145690\n end_ms: 148030\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 148030\n end_ms: 150770\n- text: The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n start_ms: 150770\n end_ms: 153960\n- text: Your wack ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153960\n end_ms: 155860\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155860\n end_ms: 158230\n- text: Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158230\n end_ms: 161050\n- text: I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161050\n end_ms: 163640\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n start_ms: 163640\n end_ms: 166100\n- text: '''Cuz I don''t know ya therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166100\n end_ms: 168660\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168660\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: You become so pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 173610\n- text: What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n start_ms: 173610\n end_ms: 176380\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176380\n end_ms: 178650\n- text: Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n start_ms: 178650\n end_ms: 181410\n- text: How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181410\n end_ms: 183730\n- text: I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n start_ms: 183730\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188770\n- text: Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188770\n end_ms: 191290\n- text: He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191290\n end_ms: 193990\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193990\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198720\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198720\n end_ms: 201230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 201230\n end_ms: 203280\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 203280\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 207940\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 207940\n end_ms: 211100\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 211100\n end_ms: 213590\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 213590\n end_ms: 216020\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 216020\n end_ms: 217980\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 217980\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 228520\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 228520\n end_ms: 230810\n- text: To what\n start_ms: 230810\n end_ms: 233720\n- text: Niggaz on the left\n start_ms: 233720\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238570\n- text: Punks in the back\n start_ms: 238570\n end_ms: 240850\n- text: To what?\n start_ms: 240850\n end_ms: 243040\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 243040\n end_ms: 244510\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244510\n end_ms: 246050\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 246050\n end_ms: 249300\n- text: Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 249300\n end_ms: 265780\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265780\n end_ms: 267960\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n start_ms: 267960\n end_ms: 271680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 271680\nplain: |-\n Up from the thirty six chambers\n It's the ghost\n Killah\n Wu-Tang\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang killa beez, we on a swarm\n The Rza, the Gza, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U God\n Ghostface Killah, The Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, The Masta killa\n Raw Desire, Levon, Power Cipher\n Twelve o'clock, Sixtysecond Assassin, The Fourth Disciple\n The Brand White, K.D. the Down Low Wrecka\n Shyheim AKA the Rugged Child\n Due Due Lilz, Mista Hezakiah better known as the Yin and the Yang\n The True Master, Ason, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin soldiers, Daddy O and Poppa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa beez all over your fuckin' planet\n Thirty six chambers of death\n Three hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome\n Peace and every fuckin' borough\n Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, killa beez\n The sword, c'mon, give him the sword\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' wit my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th street in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a fitz like Gerald\n Geraldine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine, shine, shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk Monk, with a quart of Ballentine\n Pass the bone, kid pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the Gza\n One who just represent the Wu-Tang click\n With the game and soul, of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley high and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n The response while I bomb that ass, you ain't shit\n Your wack ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn, on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid?\n 'Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants ahh human feces\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time come strapped with a fuckin' pamper\n How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound G and it's a no hitter\n And my DJ the catcher, he's my man\n Anyway he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So, it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what\n Niggaz on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back\n To what?\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to\n"},{"id":21723644,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu‐Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":275.356735,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu‐Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 275357\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":24761568,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu‐Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":299.976375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu‐Tang Clan\n album: Enter the Wu‐Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 299976\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":23122314,"name":"Clan In Da Front","trackName":"Clan In Da Front","artistName":"Wu-Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death;\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\nPunks in the back, c’mon and attract to what? (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone!\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\nPunks in the back, c’mon and attract to what (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back… to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon… to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c’mon and attract\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.01] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:02.76] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:07.61] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:09.00] Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n[00:13.09] Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n[00:15.48] Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n[00:18.05] Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n[00:20.36] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:24.00] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:32.52] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:35.57] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:37.97] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:40.08] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:42.76] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:44.97] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:47.88] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:51.68] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:55.28] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[00:58.40] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:01.11] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:03.24] 36 chambers of death;\n[01:04.29] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:07.28] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:09.80] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:11.40] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:13.85] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n[01:15.12] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n[01:18.26] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:20.77] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n[01:23.21] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n[01:25.41] Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what? (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\n[01:28.33] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:30.33] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:32.73] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:35.01] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:37.58] -ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:39.65] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:42.29] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:44.32] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:46.84] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone!\n[01:49.05] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:51.32] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:54.64] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[01:56.84] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[01:59.17] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:01.72] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:04.92] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:07.00] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:09.13] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:11.44] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:13.84] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n[02:16.21] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:18.68] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n[02:21.08] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n[02:23.65] Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\n[02:26.04] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:28.41] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:30.89] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:33.12] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:35.64] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:38.28] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:40.73] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:43.16] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:45.77] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:48.12] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:50.60] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:52.64] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[02:55.41] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[02:57.81] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:00.17] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:02.69] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:05.08] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:07.41] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:09.84] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:12.49] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n[03:14.73] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:16.88] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:19.33] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:21.64] Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n[03:24.56] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[03:26.60] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[03:28.97] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[03:31.44] Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n\n[03:38.95] Hoods on the right\n[03:41.28] Punks in the back… to what\n[03:46.23] Niggas on the left\n[03:48.68] Hoods on the right\n[03:51.19] Punks in the back, c'mon… to what\n[03:54.38] Let your feet stomp\n[03:57.13] Brag shit to death\n[03:59.52] Wild for the night\n[04:00.80] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:04.16] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:08.84] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:15.00] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:17.41] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:19.90] Punks in the back, c’mon and attract\n[04:22.23] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:24.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan In Da Front\n artist: Wu-Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 265000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 10\n end_ms: 2760\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 2760\n end_ms: 7610\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 7610\n end_ms: 9000\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n start_ms: 9000\n end_ms: 13090\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13090\n end_ms: 15480\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n start_ms: 15480\n end_ms: 18050\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18050\n end_ms: 20360\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 20360\n end_ms: 24000\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 24000\n end_ms: 32520\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 32520\n end_ms: 35570\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 35570\n end_ms: 37970\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 37970\n end_ms: 40080\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 40080\n end_ms: 42760\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 42760\n end_ms: 44970\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 44970\n end_ms: 47880\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 47880\n end_ms: 51680\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 51680\n end_ms: 55280\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 55280\n end_ms: 58400\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 58400\n end_ms: 61110\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 61110\n end_ms: 63240\n- text: 36 chambers of death;\n start_ms: 63240\n end_ms: 64290\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 64290\n end_ms: 67280\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 67280\n end_ms: 69800\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 69800\n end_ms: 71400\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 71400\n end_ms: 73850\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 73850\n end_ms: 75120\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 75120\n end_ms: 78260\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 78260\n end_ms: 80770\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 80770\n end_ms: 83210\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 83210\n end_ms: 85410\n- text: Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what? (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 85410\n end_ms: 88330\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 88330\n end_ms: 90330\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 90330\n end_ms: 92730\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 92730\n end_ms: 95010\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 95010\n end_ms: 97580\n- text: -ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 97580\n end_ms: 99650\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 99650\n end_ms: 102290\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 102290\n end_ms: 104320\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 104320\n end_ms: 106840\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone!\n start_ms: 106840\n end_ms: 109050\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 109050\n end_ms: 111320\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 111320\n end_ms: 114640\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 114640\n end_ms: 116840\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 116840\n end_ms: 119170\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 119170\n end_ms: 121720\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 121720\n end_ms: 124920\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 124920\n end_ms: 127000\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 127000\n end_ms: 129130\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 129130\n end_ms: 131440\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 131440\n end_ms: 133840\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 133840\n end_ms: 136210\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 136210\n end_ms: 138680\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 138680\n end_ms: 141080\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 141080\n end_ms: 143650\n- text: Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n start_ms: 143650\n end_ms: 146040\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 146040\n end_ms: 148410\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 148410\n end_ms: 150890\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 150890\n end_ms: 153120\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 153120\n end_ms: 155640\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 155640\n end_ms: 158280\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 158280\n end_ms: 160730\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 160730\n end_ms: 163160\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 163160\n end_ms: 165770\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 165770\n end_ms: 168120\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 168120\n end_ms: 170600\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 170600\n end_ms: 172640\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 172640\n end_ms: 175410\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 175410\n end_ms: 177810\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 177810\n end_ms: 180170\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 180170\n end_ms: 182690\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 182690\n end_ms: 185080\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 185080\n end_ms: 187410\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 187410\n end_ms: 189840\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 189840\n end_ms: 192490\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 192490\n end_ms: 194730\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 194730\n end_ms: 196880\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 196880\n end_ms: 199330\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 199330\n end_ms: 201640\n- text: Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n start_ms: 201640\n end_ms: 204560\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 204560\n end_ms: 206600\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 206600\n end_ms: 208970\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 208970\n end_ms: 211440\n- text: Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n start_ms: 211440\n end_ms: 218950\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 218950\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: Punks in the back… to what\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 226230\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 226230\n end_ms: 228680\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 228680\n end_ms: 231190\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon… to what\n start_ms: 231190\n end_ms: 234380\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 234380\n end_ms: 237130\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 237130\n end_ms: 239520\n- text: Wild for the night\n start_ms: 239520\n end_ms: 240800\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 240800\n end_ms: 244160\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 244160\n end_ms: 248840\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 248840\n end_ms: 255000\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 255000\n end_ms: 257410\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 257410\n end_ms: 259900\n- text: Punks in the back, c’mon and attract\n start_ms: 259900\n end_ms: 262230\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 262230\n end_ms: 264770\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 264770\nplain: |\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez—we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death;\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what? (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone!\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what (Wu, wu, wu, wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c’mon and attract to what\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back… to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon… to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c’mon and attract\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"},{"id":11540411,"name":"Clan in da Front","trackName":"Clan in da Front","artistName":"Wu‐Tang Clan","albumName":"Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)","duration":273.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Up from the 36 Chambers!\nHeheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\nHeheheh, Wu-Tang!\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nWu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\nThe RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\nGhostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\nThe Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\nThe 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\nK.D. the Down Low Recka\nShyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\nDu-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\nBetter known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\nIsham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\nScientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\nThe Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\nComin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\nKilla Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n36 chambers of death\nThree-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\nChoppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\nAnd every fuckin' borough\nBrooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\nThe motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n\"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nThe Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\nFuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\nOn 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\nI gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n-Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\nAnd shine shine shine like gold mine\nHere comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\nPass the bone, kid, pass the bone\nLet's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\nThe GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\nWith the game and soul of an old school flick\nLike the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\nClaudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\nSo stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\nI'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\nMake way for the merge of traffic\nWu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\nGod squad that's mad hard to serve\nCome frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNo response while I bomb that ass\nYou ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\nEgos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\nSouped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\nI don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\nHow many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\nI come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\nYou become so Pat as my style increases\nWhat's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\nThrow your shitty drawers in the hamper\nNext time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\nHow you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\nI'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\nAnd my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\nIn a way he's the one who devised the plan\nHe throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\nI throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\nSo it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\nYou can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nHoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back... to what\nNiggas on the left\nHoods on the right\nPunks in the back, c'mon... to what\nLet your feet stomp\nBrag shit to death\nWild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\nNiggas on the left, brag shit to death\nHoods on the right, wild for the night\nPunks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\nClan in da front, let your feet stomp","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] Up from the 36 Chambers!\n[00:03.18] Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n[00:08.27] Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n[00:10.82] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:13.62] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:16.37] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:18.86] Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n[00:21.24] The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n[00:26.16] Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n[00:29.62] The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n[00:33.86] 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n[00:37.18] The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n[00:39.56] K.D. the Down Low Recka\n[00:41.55] Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n[00:44.24] Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n[00:46.44] Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n[00:49.60] Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n[00:53.58] Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n[00:57.14] The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n[01:00.59] Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n[01:03.03] Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n[01:05.48] 36 chambers of death\n[01:06.81] Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n[01:09.46] Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n[01:12.35] And every fuckin' borough\n[01:13.56] Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n[01:16.02] The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n[01:17.75] \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n[01:20.93] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[01:23.42] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:25.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:28.20] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[01:30.90] The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n[01:33.41] Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n[01:35.72] On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n[01:38.03] I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n[01:40.89] -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n[01:42.78] 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n[01:45.87] And shine shine shine like gold mine\n[01:47.85] Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n[01:50.40] Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n[01:52.53] Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n[01:55.34] The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n[01:58.16] With the game and soul of an old school flick\n[02:00.79] Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n[02:03.28] Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n[02:05.60] So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n[02:09.19] I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n[02:11.36] Make way for the merge of traffic\n[02:13.34] Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n[02:16.19] God squad that's mad hard to serve\n[02:18.09] Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n[02:21.03] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[02:23.40] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:25.66] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[02:31.07] No response while I bomb that ass\n[02:33.29] You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n[02:35.84] Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n[02:38.21] Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n[02:41.01] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n[02:43.70] How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n[02:46.11] 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n[02:48.62] I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n[02:51.10] You become so Pat as my style increases\n[02:53.63] What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n[02:56.35] Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n[02:58.60] Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n[03:01.12] How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n[03:03.72] I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n[03:06.25] And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n[03:08.72] In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n[03:11.06] He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n[03:13.70] I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n[03:16.19] So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n[03:18.75] You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n[03:20.78] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:23.29] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:25.75] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:28.14] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:30.84] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:33.34] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:35.74] Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:38.28] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[03:45.85] Hoods on the right\n[03:48.01] Punks in the back... to what\n[03:53.27] Niggas on the left\n[03:55.92] Hoods on the right\n[03:58.32] Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n[04:02.24] Let your feet stomp\n[04:04.26] Brag shit to death\n[04:06.87] Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:10.79] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:14.38] (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n[04:23.12] Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n[04:25.73] Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n[04:28.29] Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n[04:30.69] Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n[04:32.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Clan in da Front\n artist: Wu‐Tang Clan\n album: Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)\n duration_ms: 273000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Up from the 36 Chambers!\n start_ms: 60\n end_ms: 3180\n- text: Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n start_ms: 3180\n end_ms: 8270\n- text: Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n start_ms: 8270\n end_ms: 10820\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 10820\n end_ms: 13620\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 13620\n end_ms: 16370\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 16370\n end_ms: 18860\n- text: Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n start_ms: 18860\n end_ms: 21240\n- text: The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n start_ms: 21240\n end_ms: 26160\n- text: Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n start_ms: 26160\n end_ms: 29620\n- text: The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n start_ms: 29620\n end_ms: 33860\n- text: 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n start_ms: 33860\n end_ms: 37180\n- text: The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n start_ms: 37180\n end_ms: 39560\n- text: K.D. the Down Low Recka\n start_ms: 39560\n end_ms: 41550\n- text: Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n start_ms: 41550\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 46440\n- text: Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n start_ms: 46440\n end_ms: 49600\n- text: Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n start_ms: 49600\n end_ms: 53580\n- text: Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n start_ms: 53580\n end_ms: 57140\n- text: The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n start_ms: 57140\n end_ms: 60590\n- text: Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n start_ms: 60590\n end_ms: 63030\n- text: Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n start_ms: 63030\n end_ms: 65480\n- text: 36 chambers of death\n start_ms: 65480\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 69460\n- text: Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n start_ms: 69460\n end_ms: 72350\n- text: And every fuckin' borough\n start_ms: 72350\n end_ms: 73560\n- text: Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n start_ms: 73560\n end_ms: 76020\n- text: The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n start_ms: 76020\n end_ms: 77750\n- text: '\"The sword? C''mon, give him the sword!\"'\n start_ms: 77750\n end_ms: 80930\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 80930\n end_ms: 83420\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 83420\n end_ms: 85740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 85740\n end_ms: 88200\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 88200\n end_ms: 90900\n- text: The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n start_ms: 90900\n end_ms: 93410\n- text: Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n start_ms: 93410\n end_ms: 95720\n- text: On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n start_ms: 95720\n end_ms: 98030\n- text: I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n start_ms: 98030\n end_ms: 100890\n- text: -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n start_ms: 100890\n end_ms: 102780\n- text: '''Cause the ho didn''t win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow'\n start_ms: 102780\n end_ms: 105870\n- text: And shine shine shine like gold mine\n start_ms: 105870\n end_ms: 107850\n- text: Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n start_ms: 107850\n end_ms: 110400\n- text: Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n start_ms: 110400\n end_ms: 112530\n- text: Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n start_ms: 112530\n end_ms: 115340\n- text: The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n start_ms: 115340\n end_ms: 118160\n- text: With the game and soul of an old school flick\n start_ms: 118160\n end_ms: 120790\n- text: Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n start_ms: 120790\n end_ms: 123280\n- text: Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n start_ms: 123280\n end_ms: 125600\n- text: So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n start_ms: 125600\n end_ms: 129190\n- text: I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n start_ms: 129190\n end_ms: 131360\n- text: Make way for the merge of traffic\n start_ms: 131360\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136190\n- text: God squad that's mad hard to serve\n start_ms: 136190\n end_ms: 138090\n- text: Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n start_ms: 138090\n end_ms: 141030\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 141030\n end_ms: 143400\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 143400\n end_ms: 145660\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 145660\n end_ms: 148290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 148290\n end_ms: 151070\n- text: No response while I bomb that ass\n start_ms: 151070\n end_ms: 153290\n- text: You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n start_ms: 153290\n end_ms: 155840\n- text: Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n start_ms: 155840\n end_ms: 158210\n- text: Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n start_ms: 158210\n end_ms: 161010\n- text: I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n start_ms: 161010\n end_ms: 163700\n- text: How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n start_ms: 163700\n end_ms: 166110\n- text: '''Cause I don''t know you, therefore show me what you know'\n start_ms: 166110\n end_ms: 168620\n- text: I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n start_ms: 168620\n end_ms: 171100\n- text: You become so Pat as my style increases\n start_ms: 171100\n end_ms: 173630\n- text: What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n start_ms: 173630\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178600\n- text: Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n start_ms: 178600\n end_ms: 181120\n- text: How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n start_ms: 181120\n end_ms: 183720\n- text: I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n start_ms: 183720\n end_ms: 186250\n- text: And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n start_ms: 186250\n end_ms: 188720\n- text: In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n start_ms: 188720\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 193700\n- text: I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n start_ms: 193700\n end_ms: 196190\n- text: So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n start_ms: 196190\n end_ms: 198750\n- text: You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n start_ms: 198750\n end_ms: 200780\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 200780\n end_ms: 203290\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 203290\n end_ms: 205750\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 205750\n end_ms: 208140\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 208140\n end_ms: 210840\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 210840\n end_ms: 213340\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 213340\n end_ms: 215740\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 215740\n end_ms: 218280\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 218280\n end_ms: 225850\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 225850\n end_ms: 228010\n- text: Punks in the back... to what\n start_ms: 228010\n end_ms: 233270\n- text: Niggas on the left\n start_ms: 233270\n end_ms: 235920\n- text: Hoods on the right\n start_ms: 235920\n end_ms: 238320\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n start_ms: 238320\n end_ms: 242240\n- text: Let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 242240\n end_ms: 244260\n- text: Brag shit to death\n start_ms: 244260\n end_ms: 246870\n- text: Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 246870\n end_ms: 250790\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 250790\n end_ms: 254380\n- text: (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n start_ms: 254380\n end_ms: 263120\n- text: Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n start_ms: 263120\n end_ms: 265730\n- text: Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n start_ms: 265730\n end_ms: 268290\n- text: Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n start_ms: 268290\n end_ms: 270690\n- text: Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n start_ms: 270690\n end_ms: 272600\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 272600\nplain: |-\n Up from the 36 Chambers!\n Heheh, it's the Ghostface Killah\n Heheheh, Wu-Tang!\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm\n The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God\n Ghostface Killah, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef\n The Masta Killa, Lord Messiah, LeVon, Power Cipher\n\n 12 O'Clock, 60 Second Assassin\n The 4th Disciple, the Brown Hornet\n K.D. the Down Low Recka\n Shyheim a.k.a. The Rugged Child\n Du-Du-Lilz, Mr. Hezekiah\n Better known as the Yin and the Yang, the True Master\n Isham, DJ Skane, the True Robocop comin' through\n Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin' man Wise the Civilized\n The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron\n Comin' down from the motherfuckin' South end of things\n\n Killa Beez all over your fuckin' planet\n 36 chambers of death\n Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles\n Choppin' off your motherfuckin' dome-piece\n And every fuckin' borough\n Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens, Staten Island\n The motherfuckin' Bronx, Killa Beez\n\n \"The sword? C'mon, give him the sword!\"\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n The Wu is comin' through, the outcome is critical\n Fuckin' with my style is sort of like a miracle\n On 34th Street, in the Square of Herald\n I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald-\n -Ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow\n 'Cause the ho didn't win, but the sun will still come out tomorrow\n And shine shine shine like gold mine\n Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballantine\n\n Pass the bone, kid, pass the bone\n Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones\n The GZA, one who just represent the Wu-Tang clique\n With the game and soul of an old school flick\n Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids\n Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids\n So stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin' own\n I'll hang your ass with this microphone\n\n Make way for the merge of traffic\n Wu-Tang's comin' through with full metal jackets\n God squad that's mad hard to serve\n Come frontin' hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n No response while I bomb that ass\n You ain't shit, your wack-ass town had you gassed\n Egos is somethin' the Wu-Tang crush\n Souped-up niggas on a stage get rushed\n I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did\n How many rhymes you got or who knows you, kid\n 'Cause I don't know you, therefore show me what you know\n I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow\n You become so Pat as my style increases\n What's that in your pants? Ahh, human feces!\n\n Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper\n Next time, come strapped with a fuckin' Pamper\n How you sound, B? You're better off a quitter\n I'm on the mound, G, and it's a no-hitter\n And my DJ, the catcher, he's my man\n In a way he's the one who devised the plan\n He throws the signs, I hook up the beats with clout\n I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike 'em out\n So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue\n You can't fuck with those in the major leagues\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what? (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back... to what\n Niggas on the left\n Hoods on the right\n Punks in the back, c'mon... to what\n Let your feet stomp\n Brag shit to death\n Wild for the night (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n (Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)\n\n Niggas on the left, brag shit to death\n Hoods on the right, wild for the night\n Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what?\n Clan in da front, let your feet stomp\n"}]