Iron Maiden

(album: Ironman - 1996)

[Intro: (from the motion picture "Fresh")]

(What you doing on our turf, punk?
Got a message for Smokey.
Give it.
You Smokey, man?
Give it!
If you ain't Smokey, it ain't yo' motherfucking message
Motherfucker, I said gimme the message!
It's from Willie, in the slam.
Nigga, you been busted?
Yeah, the man picked me up.
Well, I ain't got no fucking time to play witchu! Now gimme the message.
Willie's in Warwick, doing 1-3. Told me to tell y'all motherfuckers to
keep cool. He be out one way or another. Quick. Maybe I could stick
around for awhile.
Naw, that's out, man. You know? What can we, The Lords, do with a punk like
you?
Kiss my ass, motherfucker! (Burn 'em) Just me and you, motherfucker, just
me and you. I put trademarks around your fucking eye!)

(Portraying, won't be paying. Uh huh, Uh huh)
(Yeah, no doubt, no doubt, this Wally champ cat. Yeah, it's on this one)

[Raekwon:]

Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs
Deluxe rap cavaliers
Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs

[Chorus: Raekwon]

Sit back jollying
My team be gaming like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollying

[Verse One: Raekwon]

Many raps they crocheting
Ay yo Iron, these niggas portraying
But haven't been paying
For real, slide on these niggas like flesh fear
Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade
Throw a blade, fuck getting laid
Guzzle this shit like Gatorade
Big-dick Wallies have never half-suede
Connecting with the hot style is done
Light up a chalis
I run with nutting but the wildest, foulest
Come on now, long-dick style
Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out
Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
Been doing this century kid, just meant to be
Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiing off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty-two Arabians
The greatest lesson is don't owe, you might get stole on
When I go bury me wit Valow on

(They come to me, and understand, just let me get mines first. Then after I
get mines, y'all can do what y'all wanna do. Fuck 'em up bad)

[Verse Two: Ghostface]

'Sho 'nuff, hit the bank and thrust
Cool Nauticas Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus
We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label
Hitting white-label, left the Winnebago unstable
Smooth sailing, walked in, my earth started kneeling
Started stealing, I'm too ill, see we're belling at the parlay
Kicked up, mack, max motion
Michael Bolton magazine call, I'm too potent
Louisville mix pain kill rap, Fuck benadryl
The violin in 'Knowledge God' sounded ill
Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches
My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless
Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror
Me and my girl'll run like Luke and Laura
We sit back on Malayan islands
Sipping mix drinks out of boat coconut bowls, we whyling

[(Break) Raekwon:]

Sit back jollying, Uh huh, Uh huh
Uh huh, Uh huh, Sit back jollying
Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh

[(Chorus) x 2]

Sit back

[Verse Three: Cappadonna]

Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard
Rap para-medical the wizard
Cappadonna, never catering to none
My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter
You oughta five thousand back across the water
My laboratory story keep me flowing with the glory
Acapella or deep dirty instrumental
I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew
One gallon of whyling, Park Hill profiling
I cut your face up rough fifty sure while you're smiling
For violating my position,
I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission
Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance
Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence
Person to person, it'd be hard for you to take a trophy
You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me
'Cause I'm P-L-O T-K-O every day
Dancehall General, Party Fanatic Colonel
Cappadonna son'a old school just go infernal
Veteran for rapping with the new set of rule of hard rapping
Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clapping
When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle
I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the methtical
Every evening, I have a by myself meeting
Thinking who's gonna be the next to catch a beating
From my mental slanging, bitching rap twist the point of warfare
I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair
Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom
I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it
Gimme my rewards

(The way I, the way I wanna get 'em. I want 'em gotten. I want 'em laying
out. I want 'em gotten. 'Cause niggas need to be gotten. He need to be
taken off of here. That's right.)