Winter Warz Chords by Ghostface Killah, Masta Killa, Reakwon, Cappadonna, U-God

[Em] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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[E] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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[G] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [Am] _
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Yes, the shit is raw, coming at you door [Abm] Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back
for more Yes, [Am] the hour's for, I told you before
Prepare for Mike fight, and plus the Cold War
This rhyme you got dashed through the RZA console
Axe Y, slam nine, diagram fold Ray-Fon drop the bomb, hunts back
Notre Dame, golden arms, it's bronze Udipalm hit Quran, it blows extreme
Mainstream be the theme, Supreme Team America's cream team, redeem beat out the
song Chrone tones hit a Monza Al Capone
Gunpowder to the dome, it splits the bone Wig flown off the ledge by the alleged
Folk bled, sledge for the edge One dose of my ferocious handheld trigger gut
Acapella spitting shell, paralyzed, you get touched
In critical Mike course, hanging like umbilical cord
Dope sauce, five-star general Raw be the quote, rap style sawed through
The fully operational handheld tone Yes, the [G] shit is raw, coming at you door
Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more
I run a thousand [Am] times, one Snatch up my sounds, get dope
I hold the title, and here inside my belt, which one check it
Slick, majestic, broke Mike, so left infected Journey starts to spread through your crew
Do lack of effort, you ask for it Start up the jams like syringes
My technique alone blows doors straight off the hinges
Master of ninja, I appear to blow your ear like wind
With a freestyle sharper than the Indian spear
So sit back and let the king explore Describe me to kids nice and he holds swords
in his name Black attached to nerve like migraines
With more gains than beggars on trains Living sharp pains, poisonous red wool like deck
You can't destroy this, you can ambush skate
Trident with voyages, side effects of hot raps and hot tracks
A duffle bag full of gunsuns dipped in black My culture, lies unattached like a vulture
Ghostface in Madison Square is on your [Ab] poster
Yes, this shit is raw, coming at your door You start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more
Yes, the [E] hour's four, I told you before Prepare for Mike fights and cross the [Am] cold wall
Be on the lookout for this mass murderous suspect That fills more body bags than apartments and
projects And as far as the coroners know
The autopsy show, it was a Shaolin blow Put on by my family, brought to the academy
Of the Wu-Willard Tattoo Fuck up your anatomy
Steadily, calm and deadly Splatterhead lyrics I lick for your transmit
MC, submit to the will as I kill your juvenile freestyle
Symbolize the mental, devils worship this like an icon
Bear hugging mites with the grips of a python
[C] Yes, this shit is raw, coming at your door You start to scream out loud, [G] Wu-Tang's [Am] back for more
You heard other raps before but kept waiting for the son of song
I keep dancehall strong, beats nother worthy of my cause
I prolong extravaganza, time sits still No propaganda, be wary of the skill
As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum
Dedicated to rap, nigga, beware the fearsome Lebanon, John Malcolm X, beat threat
CD massacre, murder to cassette I blow the shop up, you ain't seen nothing yet
One man ran, trying to get away from it Put your bifocal on, watch me or come if
Into your chamber like Freddie into Dream This could boomerate your technique and your scheme
Four cores of floors like a blackjack cadet You stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map
Nowhere to go except next show, bro Entertaining motherfuckers can't stop O-M battling
You don't want me to start tattling All up on the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattling
Bitch, you ain't got nothing on the rich Every other day my whole dress code switch
So just in case you wanna clock me like Sherry All y'all crab bitches ain't got to worry
Can't get a nigga like Don, Donma doesn't Even if I'm smoked out, I can't be scoped out
I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill See my face on a twenty dollar bill
Cash it in and get ten dollars back The fat LB with cappuccino on the wax
Pass it in your thing, put valve up to twelve Put all the other LPs back on the shelf
And smoke a blunt and dial 917-160-493-11 And you could get long dick hip-hop effects
And I damage any MC who step in my direction I'm Staten Island best son, fuck what you heard
Niggas still talking, that shit is absurd My repertoire is USSR
PLO Sal [Dbm] got thrown out the car And ran over by the Method Man Jeep
Divine can't define my [Am] style, it's so steep like pussy
My low-cut face stay bushy like a porcupine I part backs like a spine
Gut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design I know you wanna diss me, but I can read your mind
Cause you weak in the knees like SWV Trying to get a title like Woo Killer B
Can't change your habit, you know I'm friends with the abbot
Me and Riz Arod name printed in the tablet under Vets
We paid our debts for mad years Hibernated sound and now we out like beers
And born power, born physically, power speaking The truth in the song