Intro: Deck
Allow me to demonstrate the of Shaolin The special technique of
Poisonous, (word word word) I should slap all y'all niggaz for in my fuckin face with that shit Alright cool yeah, go man...
Verse One: Inspectah Deck a.k.a. INS
paragraphs, smash ya phonograph in half, it be the Inspectah on the warpath First class leavin with a cast Causin like the aftermath when guns blast Run fast, here comes the verbal Rhymes runnin wild a child in a walker I scored the inner slums abroad And my are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the cord First they criticize, but now have become mentally paralyzed with that I devise Now I testify, the is I, Rebel INS Ya highness, blessed to with voltage of an eel, truth I reveal'll the amateurs who screamed to keep it real Caesar black hoodied up and fatigues Part time minor leagues third degrees Attack like a wolf pack, once I pull then guard you, and bust like a fullback
Verse Two: Killer a.k.a. Tony Starks
Yo, you fourteen carat slum computer wizard Tappin inside my rap causes blizzards Do I like the kills for ice like botta digits Gorillas injected strength of eighty midgets The Earth spins ruins, rap exotic Let my peeps in, niggaz gaspin swallowin a dosage, you overdosed in rap High explosives my hypnotize with hypnosis I goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural Born Killers the album Thriller Now access the jig who has bombs and launchers Float like killer bees is what I sponsor Ya entrepeneur, pens and like shakespeare When I fuck I grab hair, collect drawers as Fuck yeah, my crew German beers My career is based on guns, throwin cats in Etcetera, any lame ass competitor Who try to front, get and passed like leathers Whatever hot hardheads get like mirrors Beretta splatter your goose, scatter ya feathers Say never poetry crumbs deal with graphic Blew my overseas in mansions If rap was crack, fully I be tour cats Tax the kingpin of the rap drug Village get slapped in Manhattan for rappin, big steps off laffin
(Were you using the Wu-Tang school method against me? I've learned so many styles, me)
Verse Three: the Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds
Sit back relax, fake niggaz get turns Watch me massage ya with slang that's king Projects filled young men cause threats Who is that? Thousand dollar and techs Focus, the niggaz of life shit These mics is like cocaine Sun, check the hype shit Exchange mad taste the sweepstakes Keepin up on fakes outta state for No doubt, plus amount, we making dough off of Puttin fifty on the Land and Allah, it's like Pull ya shoes up black, matta of just adapt Tie up, ya black and tight hats Corners, surrounded with foreigners Whattup Feds caught you grudgin for his bread But regardless, peace to jail niggaz charges Unify layin in the with La My Clan done ran Japan to Atlanta, with stamina and gamblers, and gram handlers Tical the Isle, so God, let's get steamed Infrared guard yo' Beem, so nuff respect Rude you bet, keep it movin par shallah Pro like tar Designin the fly shit and shinin and the RZA pours more beats than fine wine raps go to black with 50 other niggaz on the other of the map Knew it's all good and all done what, we want Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin out for fun
Verse Four: The a.k.a. Maximillion
The nigga get mad, I got mad styles of my own And it's when my hands grip the chrome microphone Verbally I catch with cordless shotties Intriguin emcees, I keep em trained potties I facts, my sword is an axe to split invisible, like dope fiend tracks Sky's the limit, are timid, and nobody knows How we move like in sheep clothes Producin data, microchips or Undaground and off air, the Land of the Notorious henchman from the Strikin niggaz the Mason-Dixon line crossed