Wu-Tang Clan
- Jajuan Jaymes
- Oct 25, 2023
- 1 min read

They were demiurges disguised as ninjas, clutching swords and scrolls with the intent to bring ruckus. A nine-man scholar system suffused with cryptic visions worthy of Carl Jung: comic books and complex numerologies, Staten Island stickup slang and kung fu, shrouded in a cloud of 5 percent Mysticism. They went from a cult to a religion, complete with a concrete testament The Wu-Tang Manual a cross between the Bible, Poor Richard's Almanac, and the Sega game Genie. Wu-Tang was whatever you wanted them to be. A deconstructionist's dream with nine unique minds Weaving tangled tales of project woe and weird prophecies. Songs of experience spliced with film clips ranging from arcane kung fu flicks to Scarface and The Killer. The Wu birthed the Mafioso rap subgenre and were the first to approach Hip Hop on cinematic terms. Method Man was the breakout star, a walking hook capable of rapping with the ceaseless locomotion of a Rolex, and the slickness to steal it off your wrist without you even knowing. Ol' Dirty Bastard was the wild card, the id unleashed, the Yorick who alternated between aphorism and idiocy. Raekwon and Ghostface were Wu-Gambinos, channeling Scorsese through their warped Staten Island vocabulary and intricate, existential narratives. The GZA was the genius a gnomic philosopher, chess grandmaster, and pure manifestation of Wu-Tang wisdom. Inspectah Deck could write 16-bar verses as tight as anyone, and Masta Killa and U-God were competent role players. Backed by a bottomless extended family, Wu-Tang second-teamers, like Capadonna, Killa Priest, Shyeim, Streetlife, Killarmy, and Sunz Of Man, we're better than most varsity squads.




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