Guillotine (Swordz)
(专辑: Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... - 1995)
Allow me to demonstrate the
skill of Shaolin The
special technique of shadowboxing [Intro: Inspectah Deck] Poisonous, poisonous (word word word) I
should slap all y'all niggaz for comin in my fuckin face with that shit Alright cool yeah, go ahead man... Poisonous [Verse One: Inspectah Deck a.k.a. Rebel INS] Poisonous paragraphs, smash ya phonograph in half, it be the
Inspectah Deck on the
warpath First class leavin mics with a
cast Causin ruckus like the
aftermath when guns blast Run fast, here comes the
verbal assaulta Rhymes runnin wild like a
child in a
walker I
scored from the
inner slums abroad And my thoughts are razor sharp I
sliced the
mic from the
cord First they criticize, but now they have become mentally paralyzed with hits that I
devise Now I
testify, the
rest is I, Rebel INS Ya highness, blessed to electrify with voltage of an eel, truth that I
reveal'll crush the
amateurs who screamed to keep it real Caesar black down hoodied up and fatigues Part time minor leagues receive third degrees Attack like a
wolf pack, once I
pull back the
God-U, and bust through like a
fullback [Verse Two: Ghostface Killah a.k.a. Tony Starks] Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum computer wizard Tappin inside my rap vein causes blizzards Do I
like the
kills for ice trife like botta digits Gorillas injected with strength of eighty midgets The
Earth spins ruins, rap exotic blends Let my peeps in, niggaz gaspin swallowin aspirins What a
dosage, you overdosed in rap High explosives my post-its hypnotize with hypnosis I
sell goods, my whole Clan is on the
run like Natural Born Killers Record-breaking the
album Thriller Now access the
jig who has bombs and rocket launchers Float like dope killer bees is what I
sponsor Ya entrepeneur, pens and gear like shakespeare When I
fuck I
grab hair, collect drawers as souveneirs Fuck yeah, my crew down German beers My career is based on guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs Etcetera, damage any lame ass competitor Who try to front, get broken and passed like leathers Whatever hot hardheads get shattered like mirrors Beretta shots splatter your goose, scatter ya feathers Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal with graphic Blew my family overseas in mansions If rap was crack, fully packed I
be tour cats Tax the
kingpin of the
rap drug traffickin Village niggaz get slapped in Manhattan for rappin, big Ghost steps off laffin (Were you just using the
Wu-Tang school method against me? I've learned so many styles, forgive me) [Verse Three: Raekwon the
Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds] Sit back relax, fake niggaz don't get turns Watch me massage ya brain with slang that's king Projects filled with young men cause threats Who is that? Thousand dollar chains and techs Focus, the
brokest niggaz of life shit These mics is like cocaine Sun, check the
suicidal hype shit Exchange mad blunts taste the
sweepstakes Keepin up on fakes outta state for cakes No doubt, plus nobody amount, we making dough off of Puttin fifty on the
Land and Allah, it's like that Pull ya shoes up black, matta of fact just adapt Tie up, ya black Nike's and tight hats Corners, stay surrounded with foreigners Whattup dread? Feds caught you grudgin for his bread But regardless, peace to jail niggaz with charges Unify layin in the
guard with La My Clan done ran from Japan to Atlanta, with stamina Clingers and gamblers, and gram handlers Tical like the
Isle, so God, let's get steamed Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek nuff respect Rude bwoy you bet, keep it movin par shallah Pro black like tar Designin the
fly shit and stay shinin and the
RZA pours more beats than Cristal's fine wine Concrete raps go to black with 50 other niggaz on the
other side of the
map Knew it's all good and all done what, we want some Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin out Macs for fun [Verse Four: The
Genius/GZA a.k.a. Maximillion] The
nigga don't get mad, I
got mad styles of my own And it's shown when my hands grip the
chrome microphone Verbally I
catch bodies with cordless shotties Intriguin emcees, I
keep em trained like potties I
bomb facts, my sword is an axe to split backs invisible, like dope fiend tracks Sky's the
limit, niggaz are timid, and nobody knows How we move like wolfs in sheep clothes Producin data, microchips or software Undaground and off air, the
Land of the
Lost Notorious henchman from the
North Strikin niggaz where the
Mason-Dixon line crossed