Chords for Wu-Tang Clan - Triumph (Official HD Video) ft. Cappadonna

Tempo:
91.25 bpm
Chords used:

Dm

Bb

E

Gm

G

Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Show Tuner
Wu-Tang Clan - Triumph (Official HD Video) ft. Cappadonna chords
Start Jamming...
[E] [F]
We've just received a report that New York City is under attack by swarms of killer bees.
[Bb] They've been seen [A] approaching from Brooklyn, [Bb] the Bronx, Queens, and [A] Staten Island.
[Gm] We urge you to stay in your [E] homes at this time as we will be bringing you up to the minute [Gm] information.
This just in.
Police are [G] reporting that there's a man on top of a [Bb] skyscraper ready to jump.
[E] I'm [G] told that he is possibly Old Dirty, a member of the Wu-Tang Clan.
[Dm] The police [Bb] suspect that there could be some connection between this Old Dirty man [Gm] and the killer bees.
[A]
[D] [Dm]
This is the future, see millennium.
Killer bees sold 50 gold, 60 platinum.
Shacklin' the masses with drastic rap tactics.
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths.
Black Wu jackets, queen bees, ease the shit.
Bumble with patrolman tickets, slays the function.
Heads by the floor, take flight inside a war.
Ticks hit the floor, thigh-hard fans demand more.
Behold [Bb] the Bo soldier, control the globe slowly.
Proceeds to blow swinging swords like [Dm] Shinobi.
Stunt rounds and painful prints [Bb] in solid rock.
Who got it like a [E] woman live on [Dm] your hottest fly?
As the world turns, I spread like germs.
The globe with the pestilence.
The hard-headed never learn.
This my testament to those burned.
Play my position in the game of life, standing firm.
On foreign lands, jump the gun out the frying pan.
Into the fire, transform into the ghost rock.
A six-pack in the street, calling name desire.
Who got my back in the line of fire, holding back?
What?
My people's if you with me, where the f*** you at?
It's a split up and they trying to twist my beer cap.
It's called a germ for the bad seed from bad sperm.
Got my wig fried like a bad perm.
What the blood, clots?
And blow [F] spots, you wanna think twice?
I think not.
The iron [Dm] lung ain't got to tell you where it's coming from.
It's more than Averone, tearing up your battle zone, ripping your slums.
I twist thoughts from the heart.
Try to intrude, loop my voice on the LP.
Martini on a slang rock, certified chatterbox.
Vocabulary don't know talking.
Tell your story walking.
Take cover, kid, what?
Run for your brother, kid.
Run for your team.
And your six can't rhyme groupies, so I can squeeze with the advantage and get wasted.
My deadly notes reign supreme, your fort is basic compared to mine.
Domino effect, arts and crafts.
Paragraphs contain cyanide.
Take a free ride on my thought, I got the fashion.
Catalog for all y'all, the all praise due to God.
The saga continues.
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang.
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so [F] sweet.
The thrill of victory, [Am] the agony [Dm] defeat.
We crush slow, [Gm] flaming deluxe slow.
Whore, judgment day coming.
Conquer, it warped.
Allow us to [Dm] escape hell.
Glow spinning [G] bomb, fogging full of heat.
Dr.
Scott rolling arms, [Dm] tunes with it.
Immortal combat sound, [Gm] the fake wall step makes the blood sting [Dm] the ground.
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum.
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem.
Hold it for rant, tranquilize with anesthesia.
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerina.
My music sincerely, rich California smell.
The ax kill adventure, pay the pitts or well.
I sing a song [Bb] from Sing Sing, sipping on thing sing.
Righteous wax, chaperone rotating [Dm] green kings.
March on a wooden soldier, decipher punks couldn't hold us.
A thousand men rushing in, not one who is sober.
We're going to take a look to the square.
We stand tall like flair, escape from your dragon's lair.
In particular, my beats travel like a vortex.
Through your spine to the top of your cerebrum cortex.
Make you feel like you're fucking a raw sex.
Enter through your right ventricle, clog up your bloodstream.
A terminal like Grand Central Station.
[Bb] Programmed fat baselines on no reason.
Getting drunk like a fucking thug is probably a [G] probation.
[Dm] War of the masses, the outcome disastrous.
Many of the victim families saved their ashes.
Along your name, long walls engraved with plaques.
Those that went back received penalties for their acts.
Another haunt is torn, postman's mourn.
Those straight as his slaves.
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds.
It leaks sounds that's heard.
93 million miles away from K1 to represent the nation.
This is a gathering of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan.
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage.
The high chief, Jamel I.
Reed, takes the stage.
Light is provided through sparks of energy from the mind that travels in rhyme form.
Giving sight to the blind.
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum.
Death only one can save self from.
This relentless attack of the track scares none.
Yo, [Bb] yo, yo, look at [Dm] all these tracks.
Lay back, living life in gray and black.
Women's on my man's rack.
Codine was forcing your drink.
You had a navy green style Amanda theme.
Just never heard you scream.
You two-faced, the scum of the slope.
I got your whole body numb.
Blowing like Shalimar in 81. Sound convincing.
Thousand dollar corporate convention.
Hands like Sonny Lister.
Give fly permission.
Hold up, hold up.
I'mma fasten your wig, bad luck.
I humiliate.
Separate the English from the Dutch.
It's me, Black Noble Juweli.
Came in threes, we like the Genovese.
Sass so, these are these degrees.
This earth, 93 million miles from the first ruff.
Turbulence, the waybirds split the megahertz.
Ay, yo, that's amazing.
In your mouth talk.
Verbal foul talk.
Connect thoughts to make my man chow walk.
Swift, notarizer.
Blue tank, all up in the high riser.
New York bank buys the word.
Tranquilizer, just a dosage.
Delegate my clan with explosives.
Wow, my pen blow lines ferocious.
Mediterranean, see y'all.
The number one draft pick, tear down the beak off.
The delegate, the sea god.
The swift chancellor, flex the white gold tarantula.
Track truck, diesel, play the Weegar.
Substantial, max, mostly.
Undivided, then slide it.
Sickening, guaranteed.
Made him jump like Rod [E] Strickland.
Key:  
Dm
2311
Bb
12341111
E
2311
Gm
123111113
G
2131
Dm
2311
Bb
12341111
E
2311
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_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ [F] _
_ We've just received a report that New York City is under attack by swarms of killer bees.
[Bb] They've been seen [A] approaching from Brooklyn, [Bb] the Bronx, Queens, and [A] Staten Island.
[Gm] We urge you to stay in your [E] homes at this time as we will be bringing you up to the minute [Gm] information.
This just in.
Police are [G] reporting that there's a man on top of a [Bb] skyscraper ready to jump.
[E] I'm [G] told that he is possibly Old Dirty, a member of the Wu-Tang Clan.
[Dm] The police [Bb] suspect that there could be some connection between this Old Dirty man [Gm] and the killer bees.
_ _ [A] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [D] _ [Dm] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
This is the future, see millennium.
Killer bees sold 50 gold, 60 platinum.
Shacklin' the masses with drastic rap tactics.
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths.
Black Wu jackets, queen bees, ease the shit.
Bumble with patrolman tickets, slays the function.
Heads by the floor, take flight inside a war.
Ticks hit the floor, thigh-hard fans demand more.
Behold [Bb] the Bo soldier, control the globe slowly.
Proceeds to blow swinging swords like [Dm] Shinobi.
Stunt rounds and painful prints [Bb] in solid rock.
Who got it like a [E] woman live on [Dm] your hottest fly?
As the world turns, I spread like germs.
The globe with the pestilence.
The hard-headed never learn.
This my testament to those burned.
Play my position in the game of life, standing firm.
On foreign lands, jump the gun out the frying pan.
Into the fire, transform into the ghost rock.
A six-pack in the street, calling name desire.
Who got my back in the line of fire, holding back?
What?
My people's if you with me, where the f*** you at?
It's a split up and they trying to twist my beer cap.
It's called a germ for the bad seed from bad sperm.
Got my wig fried like a bad perm.
What the blood, clots?
And blow [F] spots, you wanna think twice?
I think not.
The iron [Dm] lung ain't got to tell you where it's coming from.
It's more than Averone, tearing up your battle zone, ripping your slums.
I twist thoughts from the heart.
Try to intrude, loop my voice on the LP.
Martini on a slang rock, certified chatterbox.
Vocabulary don't know talking.
Tell your story walking.
Take cover, kid, what?
Run for your brother, kid.
Run for your team.
And your six can't rhyme groupies, so I can squeeze with the advantage and get wasted.
My deadly notes reign supreme, your fort is basic compared to mine.
Domino effect, arts and crafts.
Paragraphs contain cyanide.
Take a free ride on my thought, I got the fashion.
Catalog for all y'all, the all praise due to God.
The saga continues.
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang.
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so [F] sweet.
The thrill of victory, [Am] the agony [Dm] defeat.
We crush slow, [Gm] flaming deluxe slow.
Whore, judgment day coming.
Conquer, it warped.
Allow us to [Dm] escape hell.
Glow spinning [G] bomb, fogging full of heat.
Dr.
Scott rolling arms, [Dm] tunes with it.
Immortal combat sound, [Gm] the fake wall step makes the blood sting [Dm] the ground.
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum.
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem.
Hold it for rant, tranquilize with anesthesia.
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerina.
My music sincerely, rich California smell.
The ax kill adventure, pay the pitts or well.
I sing a song [Bb] from Sing Sing, sipping on thing sing.
Righteous wax, chaperone rotating [Dm] green kings.
March on a wooden soldier, decipher punks couldn't hold us.
A thousand men rushing in, not one who is sober.
We're going to take a look to the square.
We stand tall like flair, escape from your dragon's lair.
In particular, my beats travel like a vortex.
Through your spine to the top of your cerebrum cortex.
Make you feel like you're fucking a raw sex.
Enter through your right ventricle, clog up your bloodstream.
A terminal like Grand Central Station.
[Bb] Programmed fat baselines on no reason.
Getting drunk like a fucking thug is probably a [G] probation.
[Dm] War of the masses, the outcome disastrous.
Many of the victim families saved their ashes.
Along your name, long walls engraved with plaques.
Those that went back received penalties for their acts.
Another haunt is torn, postman's mourn.
Those straight as his slaves.
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds.
It leaks sounds that's heard.
93 million miles away from K1 to represent the nation.
This is a gathering of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan.
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage.
The high chief, Jamel I.
Reed, takes the stage.
Light is provided through sparks of energy from the mind that travels in rhyme form.
Giving sight to the blind.
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum.
Death only one can save self from.
This relentless attack of the track scares none.
Yo, [Bb] yo, yo, look at [Dm] all these tracks.
Lay back, living life in gray and black.
Women's on my man's rack.
Codine was forcing your drink.
You had a navy green style Amanda theme.
Just never heard you scream.
You two-faced, the scum of the slope.
I got your whole body numb.
Blowing like Shalimar in 81. Sound convincing.
Thousand dollar corporate convention.
Hands like Sonny Lister.
Give fly permission.
Hold up, hold up.
I'mma fasten your wig, bad luck.
I humiliate.
Separate the English from the Dutch.
It's me, Black Noble Juweli.
Came in threes, we like the Genovese.
Sass so, these are these degrees.
This earth, 93 million miles from the first ruff.
Turbulence, the waybirds split the megahertz.
Ay, yo, that's amazing.
In your mouth talk.
Verbal foul talk.
Connect thoughts to make my man chow walk.
Swift, notarizer.
Blue tank, all up in the high riser.
New York bank buys the word.
Tranquilizer, just a dosage.
Delegate my clan with explosives.
Wow, my pen blow lines ferocious.
Mediterranean, see y'all.
The number one draft pick, tear down the beak off.
The delegate, the sea god.
The swift chancellor, flex the white gold tarantula.
Track truck, diesel, play the Weegar.
Substantial, max, mostly.
Undivided, then slide it.
Sickening, guaranteed.
Made him jump like Rod [E] Strickland. _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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