Intro: Inspectah
Allow me to demonstrate the skill of The technique of shadowboxing
Poisonous, (word word word) I slap all y'all niggaz for coming in my fuckin face with that shit Alright 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 ruckus like the aftermath when guns blast Run fast, here the verbal assaulta Rhymes wild like a child in a walker I from the inner slums abroad And my are razor sharp I sliced the mic from the cord First criticize, but now they have become mentally paralyzed hits that I devise Now I testify, the is I, Rebel INS Ya highness, blessed to with voltage of an eel, that I reveal'll the amateurs who screamed to keep it real Caesar black down hoodied up and time minor leagues receive third degrees Attack like a wolf pack, I pull back then you, and bust through like a fullback
Verse Ghostface Killer a.k.a. Tony Starks
Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum computer Tappin my rap vein causes blizzards Do I the kills for ice trife like botta digits Gorillas injected with strength of eighty The spins ruins, rap exotic blends Let my peeps in, gaspin swallowin aspirins What a dosage, you in rap High explosives my hypnotize with hypnosis I goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural Born Killers Record-breaking the Thriller Now access the jig who has and rocket launchers like dope killer bees is what I sponsor Ya entrepeneur, pens and gear like I fuck I grab hair, collect drawers as souveneirs Fuck yeah, my crew down German My career is based on guns, throwin cats in Etcetera, damage any ass competitor Who try to front, get and passed like leathers hot hardheads get shattered like mirrors Beretta splatter your goose, scatter ya feathers Say never poetry crumbs deal with graphic Blew my family in mansions If rap was crack, packed I be tour cats Tax the of the rap drug traffickin Village get slapped in Manhattan for rappin, big Ghost off laffin
(Were you just using the school method against me? I've so many styles, forgive me)
Verse Three: Raekwon the a.k.a. Lou Diamonds
Sit back relax, fake don't get turns Watch me ya brain with slang that's king Projects filled with young men threats Who is that? Thousand chains and techs Focus, the brokest of life shit These mics is like cocaine Sun, check the suicidal shit Exchange mad blunts taste the Keepin up on fakes state for cakes No doubt, plus nobody amount, we dough off of Puttin fifty on the Land and Allah, like that Pull ya shoes up black, matta of fact just Tie up, ya black Nike's and tight Corners, surrounded with foreigners Whattup Feds caught you grudgin for his bread But regardless, to jail niggaz with charges Unify layin in the guard La My Clan done ran Japan to Atlanta, with stamina Clingers and gamblers, and gram Tical like the Isle, so God, let's get Infrared yo' Beem, so seek nuff respect Rude bwoy you bet, keep it movin par Pro like tar Designin the fly and stay shinin and the RZA pours more beats than fine wine Concrete raps go to 50 other niggaz on the other side of the map Knew all good and all done 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 it's shown when my hands grip the microphone Verbally I bodies 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, niggaz are timid, and nobody How we move wolfs in sheep clothes data, microchips or software Undaground and off air, the Land of the henchman from the North Strikin niggaz where the Mason-Dixon crossed