Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Deck

Allow me to demonstrate the of Shaolin
The technique of shadowboxing

Poisonous, (word 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, ya phonograph
in half, it be the Deck on the warpath
First class leavin mics with a
Causin ruckus like the aftermath guns blast
Run fast, here the verbal assaulta
Rhymes wild like a child in a walker
I scored from the inner abroad
And my thoughts are razor I sliced the mic from the cord
First criticize, but now they have become
mentally paralyzed with hits that I
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
Part time minor leagues receive degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, once I back
then guard you, and bust through 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 like digits
injected with strength of eighty midgets
The Earth ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my peeps in, niggaz swallowin aspirins
a dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives my post-its hypnotize hypnosis
I goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural Born Killers
the album Thriller
Now access the jig who has and rocket launchers
Float like dope killer is what I sponsor
Ya entrepeneur, pens and gear like
When I fuck I grab hair, drawers as souveneirs
Fuck yeah, my crew down beers
My career is on guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs
Etcetera, any lame ass competitor
Who try to front, get and passed like leathers
Whatever hot hardheads get shattered like
Beretta shots splatter your goose, scatter ya
Say never poetry crumbs deal with graphic
Blew my overseas in mansions
If rap was crack, fully packed I be cats
Tax the kingpin of the rap traffickin
Village get slapped in Manhattan
for rappin, big steps off laffin

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

Verse Raekwon the Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds

Sit relax, fake niggaz don't get turns
me massage ya brain with slang that's king
Projects filled young men cause threats
Who is Thousand dollar chains and techs
Focus, the brokest of life shit
These mics is like Sun, check the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad taste the sweepstakes
up on fakes outta state for cakes
No doubt, plus amount, we making dough off of
Puttin on the Land and Allah, it's like that
Pull ya shoes up black, matta of just adapt
Tie up, ya black and tight hats
Corners, stay surrounded foreigners
Whattup Feds caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, peace to jail niggaz with
Unify layin in the with La
My Clan done ran Japan to Atlanta, with stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and handlers
Tical like the Isle, so God, get steamed
Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek respect
bwoy you bet, keep it movin par shallah
Pro like tar
the fly shit and stay shinin and
the RZA pours beats than Cristal's fine wine
raps go to black
with 50 other on the other side of the map
Knew it's all good and all done what, we some
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin out for fun

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

The nigga don't get mad, I got mad of my own
And it's when my hands grip the chrome microphone
Verbally I bodies with cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em like potties
I bomb facts, my is an axe
to split backs invisible, dope fiend tracks
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 of the Lost
henchman from the North
Strikin where the Mason-Dixon line crossed