Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Deck

Allow me to the skill of Shaolin
The special technique of

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

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

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

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

Yo, you carat gold slum computer wizard
Tappin my rap vein causes blizzards
Do I like the kills for ice trife botta digits
Gorillas injected strength of eighty midgets
The Earth spins ruins, rap exotic
Let my peeps in, niggaz swallowin aspirins
What a dosage, you in rap
High explosives my post-its hypnotize hypnosis
I sell goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Born Killers
Record-breaking the Thriller
Now access the jig who has bombs and launchers
like dope killer bees is what I sponsor
Ya entrepeneur, pens and like shakespeare
When I fuck I hair, collect drawers as souveneirs
Fuck yeah, my crew German beers
My career is based on guns, throwin cats in
Etcetera, damage any lame ass
Who try to front, get broken and passed like
Whatever hot hardheads get shattered mirrors
Beretta shots splatter your goose, scatter ya
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal with
Blew my overseas in mansions
If rap was crack, packed I be tour cats
Tax the of the rap drug traffickin
Village niggaz get in Manhattan
for rappin, big Ghost steps off

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

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

Sit back relax, fake niggaz get turns
Watch me ya brain with slang that's king
filled with young men cause threats
Who is that? Thousand dollar and techs
Focus, the brokest niggaz of life
mics is like cocaine Sun, check the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts taste the
Keepin up on fakes outta state for
No doubt, nobody amount, we making dough off of
Puttin on the Land and Allah, it's like that
Pull ya shoes up black, of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya black Nike's and tight
Corners, surrounded with foreigners
Whattup dread? Feds you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, peace to jail niggaz charges
Unify in the guard with La
My done ran from Japan to Atlanta, with stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and gram
Tical like the Isle, so God, get steamed
guard yo' Beem, so seek nuff respect
Rude you bet, keep it movin par shallah
Pro like tar
Designin the fly and stay shinin and
the RZA pours beats than Cristal's fine wine
Concrete go to black
with 50 niggaz on the other side of the map
Knew it's all good and all done what, we some
Mike of this rap shit, pullin out Macs for fun

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

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