Verses
GZA, Think Differently, Wu-Tang Clan, Ras Kass, Scaramanga Shallah, LA the Darkman
Yeah, yeah (yeah)
Sham's nine times ultra
Wu-tang (brrrat)
Herbs two times great (uh)
You heard of me, son (big up L.A.D.)
Four, six times ill (rest in peace O.D.B)
La the Dark, Sun large
Gza, Ras Kass (let's go, yeah)
Wu-universal (legendary)
Now it's the real beginning of the pages of Shams (yeah)
Spit that heat rock that make fiends make vapors of grams
Sham's is the greatest fan, rock big cables of sands
Valleys and trunks, I got the MAC-10
We can hit the alley with iron and thumper
Take it to the hands like the brand new Leonard
Niggas going no mas, when the bullets go in him
You dealing with a night stick choker
The ice pick poker, trust you ain't like this joker
And the set devoted to opening your neck
With the Tech, as you sit in a Lex'
Your next move is slipping, your last move is shitting
As your body gets soft, the shotty went off
Little soldier, you're out of position
Guns go off, Shams is a Raiders fan
A rhyming gallop reporter, columns are lost
White five, black five with dollars to toss
Twisted by the dark side of the force
Black biscuit by park side in a Porsche
You're off sides in the fort
We are survivors of the war of good and evil
I'm in the hood, in the hood with a Desert Eagle
With my Brooklyn peoples, now feel it
Darkman, my persona's like Tony Montana
How he used to sniff coke, how I puff marijuana
Try play me today, I'ma kill you mañana
From far with the K or up close with the llama
I'm like an African king in a castle in Ghana
Chest dripping with jewels, one hell of a rhymer
Study lessons in Medina, building with an old timer
So I, always been wise ever since a young minor
Get C.R.e.a.m by any means, follow Malcolm X theme
So I'm often posted in a window with that thing
Got unlimited support from the Sing-Sing regime
I'm Hannibal Smith and they like the A-Team
Keep my head on the swivel when I serve a dope fiend
Upgraded to a digital from a triple beam
Fucking with me, you better be real as you can be
La Trapacandi, a well-known rhyme general
Who say Ras Kass don't spit fire, he a liar
That's like your favorite rap star claiming he gon' retire
When you mention me, not about penitentiary
Wins and rhyme skills, both twenty-second century
Ahead of my time, school niggas like Timbuktu
'Cause I'm original, like Black Falasha Jews
Velours by BUFU. Buy Us, Fuck you
Try us, fuck you
You die y'all got gats but him buck too, nigga
Sip the Grey Goose and ponder, then order room service in Hotel Rwanda
Reminder to honor these street scholars
Who ask why U.S. Defense is twenty percent of the tax dollar
Bush gave 6.46 billion to Halliburton
For troops support efforts in Iraq
Meanwhile, the hood is hurting, please believe that
The rape over, Chaney talking, forty-five dollars for a case of soda
Draining taxpayers, eighty-five thousand dollar oil filters (damn)
But won't pay they soldiers, Halliburton workers make
Fourteen thousand dollars a month, privates earn thirteen G's a year
Plus two-twenty five extra, taking fire in combat
Recruit all the niggas, that die from where I'm at
Eighteen years olds told to kill where Saddam at
But can't have a gat, to protect where my Mom's at
I love to crunk, so what, plus I'm gangsta enough
To piss in Pimpin Ken's, pimp cup, rack a gauge and pump it up
Hot bitches still get fucked, niggas just want a forty and a blunt
Yo, these youngsters they grow up on the block
With the product in they socks and the fully loaded Glocks
Too many die in vain and it's a crying shame
The murders and the hustles won't stop as they shoot for the top
Acquiring power through growth and development
On they most dangerous missions, excuses were irrelevant
The brutality of war, never changes
And the out of control desire to win, makes it dangerous
Fire engulfed the set, they feel the threat, greater than
What they ever had, experienced yet
Indictments, sparked excitement and the thrill to kill
Suddenly they felt the need for a challenge and they feel
The great boundaries of both man and machine
Can have one at the point to murder all in between
Yellow tape scene, dead teen, the mob was his idol
Giving a grim new meaning to the neighborhood's title, what's up?
That's good?
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