Luyện nghe bài hát Who's the Champion

Intro: RZA and Ghostface, Raekwon () and []

Word. Man fuck that
that crab, ass, bitch [Who the live niggaz youknowhatI'msayin?]
[You niggaz know how to shoot joints] (Put the gun son)
[Elmira, Riker's Island, coming Brownsville] (Put down the gun son)
tried to front on my little sister (Put down the gun)
[YouknowhatI'msayin we represent
Big Tony Rhome, peace to my man Tony Rhome]
They tried to, to front on this (Put down the gun son)
[RZA respect youknowhatI'msayin? We it real]
Yeah, it out y'all (put down the, put down the gun son)
[Put your guns down, throw hands up]
It's on like that y'all up, Iron Man comes back
[Represent, you niggaz gotta joints]
Yo it

Verse RZA

Put away your heaters, up your dick beaters
Accurate blows to his nose his eyes closed to a centimeter
Bitches on the wonderin what the fuck the suspense is
I heavy uppercuts in the corner of the park fences
Knocked his mouthpiece front teeth got locked my knuckle
He grabbed the belt buckle, to catch me with a couple
of low to the nuts, on ringside was as a giant du-els
Send your Barb for this fuckin jew On a
He chessbox that's when he reached for his ahhs
chopped me on the top of my knot, but he got stopped
When a twelve ounce of Bartyle and James had him startled
A bitch it caught him in his head, at full throttle
He fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't saved by the
That was his ass
So it comes to physical combat
We can take it hand to hand or go beyond
Do you want my gat to the contact?
Retirin cats who lack the to fire back?
[We take all crabs

Chorus:

Put down the gun son, son of fact, shoot the one on one
Hold it down, make sure the head, sure nuff hit the ground
on the handball courts, or the square, we can take it there
Settle it son, who the

like that, niggaz want to front, one more time?
I'ma you like this. One on each side
This is it up. We gonna lay you back
We gonna rest your back, you won't how to act
When it come to bigger, showin and
Niggaz is wack] Who the champion? Settle it son.

Verse Ghostface Killer

Yo!
I had to run up on this King at Devine, for his
He saw the stash and my mailbox for eighty dimes
He saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for fiends
I held it down the finger fly miraculous King
Peep through the small get the camoflouge
Starks master in charge, pushin ery buildin, sippin egg nog
Niggaz my status God body carry big batters
Fiends know me for my blue bags, besides smackin
and earnin mine, bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back bent
What the hell just made him fuck my intelligent?
to Polly and I heard some noise we pack a two twelve
There go Lord Shamel, faggot made a
He's sellin my shit, I should fire out his ass
his bones in half and watch the stock market crash
I up on him, he had the nerve to say Peace God
Ain't nuttin God, you stole it now we out in the streets
Take your off, nigga you soft, back up off
Youse a shady nigga, I'm a sever fig you with a
I snuffed him, threw a left and I cuffed him
Allah don't like so I held back from bustin him
I passed the burn off, he caught me the blind side
a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and crazy raw
I had my ice on, tapped a few times, he started
De King with the deadarm, Shamel to his knees and
He started wheezin, losin his breath from smokin and
I'm still breathin, bleedin it's frontin season
Now I got project belt, international/national
Worldwide, I let Shamel