Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Inspectah

Allow me to demonstrate the skill of
The special of shadowboxing

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

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

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

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

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

(Were you just the Wu-Tang school method against me?
learned 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 brain slang that's king
Projects filled with young men threats
Who is that? dollar chains and techs
Focus, the brokest of life shit
These mics is like cocaine Sun, the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts taste the
Keepin up on fakes outta state for
No doubt, plus amount, we making dough off of
Puttin on the Land and Allah, it's like that
ya shoes up black, matta of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya Nike's and tight hats
Corners, stay with foreigners
dread? Feds caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, peace to jail with charges
Unify layin in the with La
My Clan done ran from Japan to Atlanta, stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and gram
Tical like the Isle, so God, let's get
Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek respect
Rude you bet, keep it movin par shallah
Pro like tar
Designin the fly and stay shinin and
the RZA pours more beats than Cristal's wine
Concrete raps go to
with 50 other on the other side of the map
it's all good and all done what, we want some
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin out for fun

Verse Four: The Genius/GZA a.k.a.

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 like
I bomb facts, my is an axe
to split backs invisible, like dope fiend
Sky's the limit, are timid, and nobody knows
How we move wolfs in sheep clothes
Producin data, microchips or
Undaground and off air, the Land of the
Notorious henchman from the
Strikin where the Mason-Dixon line crossed