Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Deck

Allow me to the skill of Shaolin
The special of shadowboxing

Poisonous, poisonous (word word)
I should slap all y'all niggaz for coming in my fuckin face with shit
Alright yeah, go ahead man...

Verse One: Deck a.k.a. Rebel INS

Poisonous paragraphs, ya phonograph
in half, it be the Deck on the warpath
First class leavin mics a cast
Causin ruckus like the aftermath guns blast
Run fast, comes the verbal assaulta
Rhymes runnin like a child in a walker
I scored from the slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the
First they criticize, but now have become
mentally paralyzed hits that I devise
Now I testify, the is I, Rebel INS
Ya highness, to electrify
with voltage of an eel, that I reveal'll
crush the amateurs who to keep it real
Caesar black down up and fatigues
Part time leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, once I back
then you, and bust through like a fullback

Verse Two: Ghostface a.k.a. Tony Starks

Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum wizard
Tappin inside my rap causes blizzards
Do I like the kills for ice trife botta digits
Gorillas injected with strength of midgets
The Earth ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my in, niggaz gaspin swallowin aspirins
What a dosage, you in rap
High my post-its hypnotize with hypnosis
I sell goods, my whole is on the run like Natural Born Killers
Record-breaking the album
Now the jig who has bombs and rocket launchers
like dope killer bees is what I sponsor
Ya entrepeneur, pens and gear shakespeare
When I fuck I grab hair, collect as souveneirs
Fuck yeah, my down German beers
My is based on guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs
Etcetera, any lame ass competitor
Who try to front, get broken and passed leathers
Whatever hot get shattered like mirrors
Beretta shots your goose, scatter ya feathers
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal graphic
Blew my family overseas in
If rap was crack, fully packed I be cats
Tax the of the rap drug traffickin
Village niggaz get in Manhattan
for rappin, big Ghost off laffin

(Were you using the Wu-Tang school method against me?
I've so many styles, forgive me)

Verse Three: the Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds

Sit back relax, niggaz don't get turns
Watch me massage ya with slang that's king
Projects filled with young men threats
Who is that? dollar chains and techs
Focus, the brokest niggaz of shit
These is like cocaine Sun, check the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts the sweepstakes
Keepin up on fakes outta for cakes
No doubt, nobody amount, we making dough off of
Puttin fifty on the Land and Allah, it's that
Pull ya up black, matta of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya black Nike's and tight
Corners, stay surrounded foreigners
Whattup Feds caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, peace to niggaz with charges
Unify layin in the guard La
My done ran from Japan to Atlanta, with stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and handlers
Tical the Isle, so God, let's get steamed
guard yo' Beem, so seek nuff respect
Rude bwoy you bet, it movin par shallah
Pro black tar
Designin the fly shit and shinin and
the RZA pours more beats Cristal's fine wine
Concrete go to black
50 other niggaz on the other side of the map
Knew it's all good and all what, we want some
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, out Macs for fun

Verse Four: The a.k.a. Maximillion

The nigga don't get mad, I got mad of my own
And shown when my hands grip the chrome microphone
I catch bodies with cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em trained like
I bomb facts, my is an axe
to split backs invisible, like dope tracks
Sky's the limit, niggaz are timid, and nobody
How we move wolfs in sheep clothes
Producin data, or software
and off air, the Land of the Lost
Notorious henchman the North
niggaz where the Mason-Dixon line crossed