GZA/Genius Album

[Intro One: not included on 7"]

When I was little... my father was famous.
He was the greatest sam-urai in the empire;
and he was the Shogun's decapitator.
He cut off the heads of a hundred and thirty-one lords.
It was a bad time for the empire.
The Shogun just stayed inside his castle -- and he never came out.
People said his brain was infected by DEVILS.
My father would come home -- he would forget about the killings.
He wasn't scared of the Shogun, but the Shogun was scared of him.
Maybe that was the problem.
Then, one night... the Shogun sent his ninja spies to our house.
They were supposed to kill my father... but they didn't.
[woman screams]
That was the night everything changed [voice fades]

[Intro Two: RZA]

See, sometimes...
You gotta flash em back
Y'all know where it came from
I'm sayin we gonna take y'all back to the source
We bounce, yo

[Chorus: RZA, GZA]

When the MC's came, to live our their name
And to perform (forrrrm)
Some had, to snort cocaine (caiiinnne) to act insane (sannne)
with before Pete Rock-ed it on, now gone
that the mental plane (plaaanne) to spark the brain (brainnn)
with the building to be born
Yo RZA flip the track with the what to gut
Check em check chicka icka etta UHH

[Verse One:]

Fake niggaz get flipped
In mic fights I swing swords and cut clown
Shit is too swift to bite you record and write it down
I flow like the blood on a murder scene, like a syringe
on some wild out shit, to insert a fiend
But it was yo out the shop stolen art
Catch a swollen heart from not rollin smart
I put mad pressure, on phony wack rhymes that get hurt
Shit's played, like zodiac signs on sweatshirt
That's minimum, and feminine like sandals
My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
that attack, the mic-fones like cyclones or typhoon
I represent from midnight to high noon
I don't waste ink, nigga I think
I drop megaton BOMBS more faster than you blink
Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
Clouds of smoke, of natural blends of weed
Only under one circumstance is if I'm blunted
Turn that shit up, my "Clan in Da Front" want it

[Chorus]

[Verse Two:]

I'm on a Mission, that niggaz say is Impossible
But when I swing my swords they all choppable
I be the body dropper, the heartbeat stopper
Child educator, plus head amputator
Cause niggaz styles are old like Mark 5 sneakers
Lyrics are weak, like clock radio speakers
Don't even stop in my station and attack
while your plan failed, hit the rail, like Amtrak
What the fuck for? Down by low, I make law
I be justice, I sentence that ass two to four
round the clock, that state pen time check it
With the pens I be stickin but you can't stick to crime
Came through with the Wu, slid off on the DL
I'm low-key like seashells, I rock these bells
(when the MC's..) Now come aboard, it's Medina bound
Enter the chamber, and it's a whole different sound
It's a wide entrance, small exit like a funnel
So deep it's picked up on radios in tunnels
Niggaz are fascinated how the shit begin
Get vaccinated, my logo is branded in your skin

[Chorus]

(feat. Master Killer, Inspector Deck, Ol Dirty Bastard)

[Intro:]

Ohh mad one
We see your trap
You can never escape, your fate
Submit with honor to a duel, with my son

I agree

I see you using an old style, I wondered where you had learned it from
You know very well, it's yours too
(Yo God, it's a duel, it's a duel) Heh, by the Gods, will you show me?
(buck buck buck buck buck buck) And where do you come for?
(Duel of the Iron Mic) You come here, since you're so interested
(Duel of the Iron Mic) Fight me
(In the moonlight niggaz I will strike)
(What, what? Bring it!)

[Verse One: The Genius]
Yo
Picture bloodbaths and elevator shafts
Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft
Check the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings
Slow moving MC's is waitin for the editin
The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry
A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry
Herbal vapors, and biblical papers
Smokin Exodus, every square yard is plush
Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions facial expression
leaves impressions, try to keep a shark nigga guessin
Give crazy shouts Son here's the outcome
Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss
Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings
Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored Shearlings
I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides
on July 4th in Bed-Stuy
Where money don't grown on trees and there's thievin MC's
Who cut-throat to rake leaves
They can't breathe, blood splash, rushin fast
like runnin rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver

[Chorus: Ol Dirty Bastard]

Duel of the Iron Mic!
It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!

[Verse Two: Master Killer]

This is not a eighty-five affair, made clear
when the Gods get on to perform storms blew up
Wu's up, causin the crowd to self-destruct
Killer bees are stingin somethin while I reveal
Science, that's heavily guarded by the culprit
Bombin your barracks, with aerodynamic
swordplay, poison darts by the doorway
Minds that's laced with explosive doses
Damagin lyrical launcher
Lunge at the youthful offender then injure
any contender, testin the murderous Master
could lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts
explode through your barrier, rips the retina
Who can withstand the astonishing punishing
Stings to the sternum, shocked in the hip-hop livestock
Seekin for a serum, to cure em

[Verse Three: Inspector Deck]

Adults kill for drugs plus the young bucks bust
Duckin handcuffs, throats get cut when dough rush
Out of town foes look shook but still pose
We move lioke real pros through the streets we stroll
Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six oh
So control the avenues that's the dream that's sold
Bulding lobbies are graveyards for small-timers
Bitches caught in airports, keys in they vaginas
No peace, yo the police mad corrupt
You get bagged up, dependin if you're passin the cut
Plus shorty's not a shorty no more, he's livin heartless
Regardless of the charges, claims to be the hardest
individual, critical thoughts, criminal minded
Blinded by illusion, findin it confusin

[Outro: Ol Dirty Bastard]

Duel of the iron mics (The master, he must be dreaming, heh)
It's that fifty-two fatal strikes (Well, if he is dreaming...)
Duel of the iron mics (...then he must be asleep)
It's that fifty-two fatal strikes, NUH (And if he is asleep)
(then I will wake him up!)
(WeahhhHAAH-HAH-HAH!)

At the height of their fame and glory, they turned on one another
Each struggling in vain for ultimate supremacy
In the passion and depth of their struggle
They very art, that had raised them through such rapiant heights was lost
Their techniques, vanished

(feat. Method Man, RZA)

[Intro: RZA]

Yo (yeah) Check it out son, check it out son
Yo, (Wu, can I get a soo) live in the place to be
You got the capital G
G to the A-M-C
Givin a mad shout out to the Ranch Crew from the old school
And we gonna take y'all back, knowhatI'msayin?
Lyrical sorcerors right here, the fathers, the cream of the crop son
(Yo check it)

[Chorus: The Genius]

Well if you livin in the world today
You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggaz that front we don't handle em
So we blast em, alright, well OK

Well if you like the way it sound then clap man
But only raise your hands if you're Sure
(Meth) Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, break it

[Verse One: The Genius]

My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination
was too heavy for the Chevy's is chased out the station
Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it
gassed up, fuckin with some regular unleaded shit
Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that
bind-in, X marks the spot on the scope
Heavily armed military is necessary, it's a gamble
MC's bet they best at every
Powerful parable ditties might harm
if tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs
Flashbacks to the Duel of the Iron Mic
Look out for these fatal flying spikes, of massive
sleep-holds, put strangle on commercial angle
Microphone cords tangled from being Star Spangled
Now who could ever say they heard of this?
My motherfuckin style is mad murderous

[Chorus: in reverse verse]

[Interlude: Method Man, Genius]

Well what you know about MCin?
Yo, I know a lot
Well can you demonstrate somethin nigga?
Huh, I'd rather not
I'm talkin bout stacks cousin
Nigga that's what I got
Cash Rules the world
Well Cash Rules the spot

[Verse Two: The Genius]

My preliminary attack keep cemetaries packed
of niggaz who think it ain't like that
MC's are gunned down like being run down with mad trucks
Them God struck, religious niggaz call it bad luck
Rap celeb, you got caught up in the web
now bees are stingin, yo that niggaz em-singin
I'm just swingin swords strictly based on keyboards
Unbalanced like elephants and ants on see-saws
I throw raps that attack like the Japs on Pearl Harbor
MC's be out like bank robbers
Fleeing the scene, to be a sole survivor
DJ the getaway driver
Tried to dip but he dive I socialize on vocal vibes
On tracks stabbed up with razor sharp knives
Criminal subliminal minded rappers find it
Hard to define it, when narrow is the gate
for fat tapes and then played out and out of date
Then I construct my thoughts on site to renovate
And from that point, the God made a statement
Draftin tracements, replacements in basements
materials in sheet-rock, to sound proof the beat box
and microscopic optics received through the boxes
obnoxious topic, major labels, flavor tropical
Punchlines, that's unstoppable
Ring like shots from glocks that attract cops
around the clubs and try to shut down the hip-hop
But we only increase if everything is peace
Father U C King the police

[Chorus]

[Chorus]

(feat. Method Man)

[Intro: Method Man]

Aiyyo Shorty, yo that's my word
Oh, y'all smellin y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught playin
Over here, I'm returnin em that's my word that they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-forty, that's mine
Y'all need to step the fuck off
Y'all niggaz ain't crazy for real

[Chorus: Genius]

Yo, the fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

[Verse One: Genius]

About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil's
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I'm in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out

[Chorus:]

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clip that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU.. yo

Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

[Verse Two: Genius]

It's mandatory that
I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz
plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he's gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and extort
some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organized his crime and drug wars

[Chorus:]

Fiends ain't comin fast enough
There is no cut that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clips that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

The peers that come is tight enough
There is no niggaz that's fuckin up
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold, to YOU

(feat. Inspector Deck, D'Angelo)

[Intro: D'Angelo]

Babies dyin, moms cryin, and punks gettin off
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world...

[Genius/GZA]

It was the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a tec
Outsiders is stuck, by enemies who put fear
And blasted on the spot before the pigs were dere
You know hoods robbers snipers new in sight fuck blue and white
They escape before them flash the fuckin lights
Gunshots, shatter first floor window panes
Shells hit the ground and blood stained the dice game
Whether broke callisthetic, any style you set it
Beat niggas toothless, physically cut up like gooses
But with iron on the side thugs took no excuses
Links was snatched off necks, scars on throats
Jackets took, after bullet rips through coats
Against those who felt the cold from the steel made em fold
And squeal, once the metal hit the temple of his grill
Construction worker, who was caught for his bomber
No time to swing the hammer that was hangin from his Farmer's
And it's bugged how some niggas catch slugs
And pockets dug from everything except check stubs
And it does, sound ill like wars in Brownsville
Or fatal robberies in Red Hook where feds look
For fugitives to shoot cops, niggas layin on roof tops
For his CREAM he stashed in a shoebox
But he was hot, and the strip was filled with young killers
You don't suspect, so cops creep like caterpillars
And born thieves stay hooded with extra bullets
Those who try to flee they hit the vertebrae, increase the murder rate
Similar to hit men who pull out tecs and then
Drop those who act like Thai flows from Mexican
Rabbit, like recipients cashin checks again
Back to the motherfuckin spot on Lexington

[Chorus: D'Angelo]

Babies dyin, moms cryin, and punks gettin off
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world...

They be runnin from the cops, bustin off shots
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world...

[Inspector Deck]

Yo
No time to freeze, undercovers ease up in Grand Prixs
And seize packages and pocket the currency
Clicks control strips full clips are sprayed
Yellow tape barricades sidewalks where bodies lay
Madness strikes at twelve o'clock midnight
Stick up kids on the ground broke the staircase light
And I stays harassed, scramblin for petty cash
Jakes on my ass young bucks is learnin fast
357's and 44's
Bought inside corner stores, provide fire sparks for wars
Hospital floors surrounded by the law
Homicide questioning while the jakes guard the door
My hood stay tense, loyalty puts strength in my team
Cause niggas main concern is CREAM
Some niggas in the jet black Gallant
Shot up the Chinese resteraunt, for this kid named Lamont
I thought he was dead but instead he missed a kid
And hit a twelve year old girl in the head and then fled
Tactical narcotic, task force, back off fast
Cause the crime boss is passin off cash
Extortions, for portions of streets, causes beef
Havin followers of Indians trying to play Chief
You witness the saga, casualties and drama
Life is a script, I'm not a actor but the author
Of a modern day opera, where the main character
Is presidential papers, the dominant factor

[Outro: D'Angelo]

Babies dyin, moms cryin, and punks gettin off
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world...

They be runnin from the cops, bustin off shots
Shit is deep on the block and you got me locked down
In this cold, cold world...

[Intro: RZA]

Lot of people, you know what I'm sayin, they be gettin misinformed
thinkin everything is everything, that you could just get yourself
a little deal, whatever, youknowhatI'msayin you gonna get on you
gonna get rich. And all these labels be trying to lure us in like
spiders, into the web, knowhatI'msaying. So sometimes people gotta
come out and speak up, and let people understand, that you know you
gotta read the label you gotta read the label if you don't read the
label you might get poisoned...

[Lyrics: Genius]

TOMMY ain't my motherfuckin' BOY
When he fake moves on a nigga you employ
Well I'll EMIRGE off ya set, now ya know God damn
I show LIVIN LARGE niggaz how to flip a DEF JAM
And RUFF up the motherfuckin' HOUSE
Cause I smother you COLD CHILLIN' mother fuckers are still WARNER BROTHERS
I'm RUTHLESS my clan don't have to act wild
That shit is JIVE, an old SLEEPING BAG/PROFILE
On the reel to reel it wasn't from a TUFF CITY
Niggas be game, thinking that they lyrical surgeons
They know their mics are formed at VIRGIN
And if you ain't boned a mic you couldn't hurt a bee
That's like going to Venus driving a MERCURY
The CAPITOL of this rugged slang, is WU-TANG
Witty Unpredictable Talent And Natural Game
I DEATH ROW an MC with mic cables
The EPIC is at a RUSH ASSOCIATED LABELS
From EASTWEST to ATCO, I bring it to a NEXT PLATEAU
But I keep it phat though
Yo, I'm hittin' batters up with the WILD PITCH style
I even show an UPTOWN/MCA style
Who thought he saw me on 4TH & BROADWAY
But I was out on the ISLAND, bombing MC's all day
My PRIORITY is that I'm FIRST PRIORITY
I bone the secret out a bitch in a sorority
So look out for A&M, the abbot and the master
Breakin' down your PENDULUM
As I fiend MC's out with a blow that'll numb the
a-ppendix, I'm holdin more more weight than COLUMBIA
Index INTERSCOPE, we RCA. clan
That's comin' with a plan to free a
slave of a mental death MC don't panic
Throw that A&R nigga off the boat in the ATLANTIC
Now who's the BAD BOY character, not from ARISTA
But firin' weapons released on GEFFEN
So duck as I struck with the soul of MOTOWN
While CENTRAL BROADCASTING SYSTEMS are slowed down
You're Dirty, like that Bastard
It's gettin drastic

Read the label and say it loud
Another Wu banger
Thirty-six chambers, to your area
Yeah, the RZA, phat tracks on a disc
Rza razor rza razor sharp
Another Wu-Tang production kid, comin at ya

(feat. Ghostface Killah, Killah Priest, RZA)

[Intro: LP version only]
Choose the sword, and you will join me
Choose the ball, and you join your mother... in death
You don't understand my words, but you must choose
[baby gurgling]
So... come boy, choose life or death

[Verse One: Ghostface Killah]
The only man a hoe wait for
is the sky-blue Bally kid, in eighty-three, rocked Taylor's
My Memorex performed tape decks, my own phone sex
Watch out for Haiti bitches, I heard they throw hex
Yo, Wu whole platoon is filled with rac-coons
Corner sittin wine niggaz sippin Apple Boone,
this ain't no white cartoon
Cuz I be duckin crazy spades
The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs
Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet?
Why did Judas, rat to Romans while Jesus slept? Stand up
Iron Man be sippin rum, out of Stanley Cups, unflammable
Noriega, aimin knives which stay windy in Chicago
spine-tingle, mind boggles
Kangols in rainbow colors, promoters try to hold dough
Give me mine before Po, wrap you up in so-and-so
I ran the Dark Ages, Constantine and great Henry the Eighth
Built with Ghengis Khan, the wreck suede Wally Don

[Verse Two: Killah Priest]
I judge wisely, as if nothin ever surprise me
Loungin, between two pillars of ivory
I'm lively, my dome piece, is like buildin stones in Greece
my poems are deep from ancient thrones I speak
I'm overwhelmed, as my mind, roams the realm
My eye's the vision, memory is the film
Others act sub-tile, but they fragile above clouds
They act wild and couldn't budge a crowd
No matter how loud they get, though they growl and spit
Clutch they fists, and throw up signs like a Crip
And throw all types of fits
I leave 'em split, like ass cheeks and ragged pussy lips

[Verse Three: The RZA]
Aiyyo, camoflouge chameleon, ninjas scalin your buildin
No time to grab the gun they already got your wife and children
A hit was sent, from the President, to rage your residence
Because you had secret evidence, and documents
on how they raped the continents, and it's the prominent
dominant Islamic, Asiatic black hebrew
The year two thousand and two, the battle's filled with the Wu
Six million devils just died from the Bubonic Flu
Or the Ebola Virus, under the reign of King Cyrus
You can see the weakness of a man right through his iris
Un-loyal snakes get thrown in boilin lakes
of hot oil, it boils your skin, chickenheads gettin slim
like Olive Oyl, only plant the seed deep inside fertile soil
Fortified with essential, vitamin and minerals
Use the sky for a blanket, stuffin clouds inside my pillow
Rollin with the lambs
Twelve tribes a hundred and forty four thousand chosen
Protons Electrons Always Cause Explosions

[Verse Four: The Genius/GZA]
The banks of G, all CREAM downs a bet
Money feed good, opposites off the set
It ain't hard to see, my seeds need God-degree
I got mouths to feed, unnecessary beef is more cows to breed
I'm on some tax free shit by any means
Whether bound to hit scheme or some counterfeit CREAM
I learned much from such with cons who run scams
Veterans got the game spiced like ham
And from that, sons are born and guns are drawn
Clips are fully loaded, and then blood floods the lawn
Disciplinary action was a fraction of strength
that made me truncate the length one-tenth
With his thump, tweaters hits like air pumps
RZA shaped the track, niggaz caught razor bumps
Scarred tryin to figure who invented
this unprecented, opium-scented, dark-tinted
Now watch me blow him out his shoes without clues
Cuz I won't hesitate to detonate, I'm short fuse

(feat. Method Man (Johnny Blaze))

[Intro: Method Man/Johnny Blaze]

[special technique] Fuck that
[special technique of shadowboxing] God damn
(The GZA, god damn!)
(The GZA, god damn!) Pledge allegiance to the hip-hop!
(Method, god damn!) I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop
(Maximilli-on, Maximilli-on)
(Uh, yeah, ahh, uh) Johnny Blaze
I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop
(Johnny Blaze) Maximilli-on
Maximilli-on

[Verse One: Method Man/Johnny Blaze]

I breaks it down to the bone gristle
Ill speaking Scud missle heat seeking
Johnny Blazing, nightmares like Wes Craven
Niggaz gunnin, my third eye seen it coming
You know about them fucking Staten
Kids they smashin
Everything huh, in any shape form or fashion
Now everybody talking bout they blastin, hmmm
Is you bustin steel or is you flashin? Hmmm
Talkin out your assHOLE
You shoulda learnt about the flow and peasy afro
Ticallion stallion, chinky eye and snot nosed
From my naps to the bunion on my big toe
I keeps it movin, know just what the fuck I'm doin
Rap insomniac, fiend to catch a nigga snoozing
Slip the cardiac arrest me, excorcist hip-hop posess me
Crunch a nigga like a Nestle, you know my STEEZ
burning to the third degree, sneaky ass alley cat top pedigree
The head toucher, industry party bum rusher
You don't like it dick up in ya fuck ya

(allow me to demonstrate) That's right, you corny-ass
(the skill of Shaolin) rap motherfuckers
(The special technique) Better go back and check
(of shadowboxing) your fuckin stacks
(Shadowboxing) Cause your naps ain't nappy enough
And your reefs ain't rugged enough
Bitch

[Verse Two: The Genius/Maximillion]

I slayed MC's back in the rec room era
My style broke motherfuckin backs like Ken Patera
Most rap niggaz came loud but unheard
Once I pulled ut, round em off to the nearest third
Check these non visual niggaz, with tapes and a portrait
Flood the seminar, tryin to orbit this corporate
indsutry, but what them niggaz can't see
must break through like the Wu, unexpectedly
Protect Ya Neck, my sword still remain imperial
Before I blast the mic, RZA scratch off the serial
We reign all year round from June to June
While niggaz bite immediately if not soon
Set the lynchin, and form the execution date
As this two thousand beyond slang suffocate
Amplify sample through vacumn tubes compressions
cause RZA, to charge niggaz twenty G's a session

[Verse Three: Method Man/Johnny Blaze]

When my mind start to clickin, and the strategy
is mastered the plot thickens, this be that Wu shit
I don't give a cotten-pickin FUCK
about a brother tryin to size a nigga up, I hold my own
Hard-hat protect your dome
Look at mama baby boy actin like he grown
No time for sleep, I gets deep as a baritone
Killa bee, that be holdin down his honeycomb, loungin son
Wu brother number one, protect your neck
Flying guillotines here they come, bloody bastards
Hard times and killer tactics, spittin words plus
semi-automatic slurs, peep the graphic
novel from the genie bottle, hit the clutch
shift the gear now, full throttle, time to bungee
To the next episode, I keeps it grungy
Hand on my nutsac, and spittin lung-ghies
At a wack nigga dat, don't understand the fact
When it come to RZA tra-cks I don't know how to act
Real rap from the Stat, killa hill projects
How to be exact, break it down
All and together now
Things are getting good looking better now

(Allow me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin)
(Sha-shadowboxing, the special technique of shadowboxing)
(Shadowboxing)

[Killah Hills intro features RZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, and "Grey Ghost"]

[...the skill of Shaolin]
[RZA:] Yes the good life, you know [clinks glass]
[GZA:] What the fuck is that, hell's angels?
[Ol Dirty singing in the background]
[Ahh Mr. Bobby Steels, Tony Starks on line one for Mr. Bobby Steels]
[RZA:] Steels over here, Steels over here
Peace, Starks what's going on baby?
Yeah everything is lovely over here.
[GZA:] No shoes and no shirt on, sure the hills is where it's at?
[RZA:] Yeah the, the Maximillion is sure here
I'm over here with Noodles and I got Lucky Hands with me
[GZA:] You got soul, R&B, classics? All that shit right?
[RZA:] Yeah... Grey Ghost right in front of me right now
Grey Ghost standing right here.
Yeah he has a briefcase; ohh, OK, OK I got you.
Aight thanks. [phone clicks]
[GGh:] Bobby Steels.
[GZA:] Huh?
[RZA:] Mr. Grey Ghost, good to see you good to see you good to see you.
[RZA:] So is everything OK, is everything working as we planned?
[GGh:] Everything is working out, very nicely.
Do you have the cash, twenty-thousand dollars?
GZA:] Be nice to have a little breeze.
Breeze on by fuck the cops.
[RZA:] Do we have the cash? We don't have to talk that, hey hey
[GZA:] Get the fuck outta here with that hell's angels bullshit!
[RZA:] We got the cash we know Cash Rules Everything Around this Motherfucker
Umm, let me ask you...
[GZA:] The fuck outta here!
[GGh:] Do you have the full amount? Twenty thousand as we agreed upon?
[GZA:] Fucking hell's bastards.
[RZA:] Let me ask you a question Mr. Grey Ghost -
Do you know a a Don Rodriguez?
[GGh:] I know no such person.
[RZA:] Don Rodriguez from the Bronx? Don Rodriguez?
[GGh:] I don't know who you're talking about.
[RZA:] I think you do know him cause your fuckin friend Don
is down at one-twenty precinct right now singing
his fuckin ass like a fuckin bird.
[GZA:] Life of a drug dealer
[RZA:] The fuckin guys is comin
[GGh:] Do you believe him?

Killah hills 10304

Restaurants on a stake-out
So order the food to take out
Chaos, outside a spark steakhouse
Maintain the power, I feel the deal's gone sour
Nigga Mr. Wedding, late a fuckin half hour
And his man who bought land from Tony Starks
While he was contractin bricklayin jobs in city parks
he's a loan shark, bitches raise a grand to a finger
In a garment that's stretched, got it sewn like Singer
Cause all that talk blasphemy this kid after me
for the heist, in a Burlington Coat Factory
Fuck it, he turned snake so my nigga Cash stole his copilot
who used to drive like sacks of blow on this remote
area, we label Dead Man's Island
Two hundred miles South from Thailand
Right off the docks, I got the various custom made yachts
Burial plots, for my niggaz hit with fatal shots
There's no need for us to spray up the scene
I use less men, more powerful shit for my team
Like my man Muhammad from Afghanistan
Grew up in Iran, the nigga runs a neighborhood newsstand
A wild Middle Eastern, bomb specialist
Intiated, at eleven to be a terrorist
He set bombs in bottles of champagne
And when niggaz popped the cork, niggaz lost half they brains
Like this ex-worker, tried to smuggle a half a key
in his left leg, even underwent surgery
They say his pirate limp gave him away
As the feds rushed him, comin through U.S. Customs
Now look whose on the witness stand singin, a well known soprano
A smash hit from Sammy Gravano
here's the plan minimum for the hit, two hundred grand
Half time at the game blastin niggaz out the stands
The sharp-shooters hit the prosecutor, judges are sent
Photographs of they wives takin baths
Along with briefcase filled with one point five, that's the bribe
Take it or commit suicide
First rule, anyone who schemes on the gold in Syria
I want they small intestines ripped from the interior
I got a price for those jewels, ship em freight cargo
Don't forget to launder the cream through Wells Fargo
Reconstruct those processin plants for the call of Costa Rica
Four hundred barrels of ether
Two hundred pounds of reefer
and fifty immigrants with fake Visas

Life of a drug dealer
Killah hills, 10304
The saga continues

(feat. U-God, Raekwon, Ghostface Killah)

(here we go, come on)
(A, A battle was fought, in Brooklyn...)
(Hessian Soldiers killed 3,000 men; much of the fighting
took place in what is now Prospect Park in Greenwood cemetary,
as well as the Park Slope and Gowanas neighborhoods.)
(This was the first battle, of America.)

[Intro/Outro: U-God]
Rugged rhymsters, crooked crimesters
Dime droppers, Twenty-five-to-lifers
Backstabbers, low blowers
Illegal... cocaine growers
Starvation, profanity
Anxiety, brothers tryin me
Gun slingers, dead ringers

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]
Yo, my slang's out of this world
Mix collaboration man, little man and his girl
youths on roofs, you know, three time felony brutes
Roll together, tropical trees puff, whatever
Yo we could go run up on, kids for leathers
What drug? Faculties bubble ki's for G's
Cream flow like seven seas, hit chicks Guayanese
Word up, hold your head before you fall out
The morgue route, the devil want that
Let's get my niggaz locked all out
Change for better, that be my only vendetta
with life, feed your seed right, he's breathin indeed right
Chef, remarkable, sparkable, raps and tackable gats
Never get jacked, see ya then move black
Paradise trife, plush with much ice
Gettin nice, layin back, sleek all my life
Word up!

(The battle of Brooklyn depicted was the bloodiest
clash of the American revolution. Soldiers killed
3,000 men, much of the fighting took place in what is now...)

[Chorus: U-God]
Crack patients, dime smokers
Vial carriers, mocha tokers
Burnt buildings, brothers buildin
Save the children, investigative reports!

[Verse Two: GZA]
Callin all cars, callin all cars! Ghetto
Psychos, armed and dangerous, leavin mad scars on those
Who are found bound, gagged and shot when they blast the spot
Victims took off like astronauts
Get with this, even your best can't
come on down, you're the next contestant!
Get your pockets dug from all your Chemical Bank-ins
Caught him at the red light - on Putnam Avenue and Franklin
They used to heat up the cipher with a shot that was hyper
than your average JFK sniper
He just came home to Spofford
Rollin like Kaufman, and laid that ass out like carpet
Stop the stutterin boy, save the planes for the five-oh
Then praise the God - chk-a-chk POW!
They release shots and premeditate to grab...
...and then they jet back to the lab
And then remain in Shaolin, an endangered island
Where shorties lose blood by the gallon

(Have integrated a number of corrupt cops, judges...
...into high-level positions, to insure the continued
success of the drug smuggling and money laundering operations)

[Chorus: U-God]

[Verse Three: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, I grab the pen for revenge and let loose, see
Like Muslims, standing on the block, rocking a khufi
The hundred-dollar kick rockin kid's back for more
startin gold wars, with black Reeboks and Velours
Jungle way of life, livin villain
Packed with visions, copywritten
Throwin bread to pigeons, Christ has risen, King Elegant
Slang-Master jackets, expensive noodle hats
In sixty-nine, old timers time that brothers shot craps
The baggy blue Guess jeans, pull strings off in Palm Springs
I'm locked in the bing, Rocky ring labelled rap king
The corner emperor - the golden thieves play the benches
Rednecks be hanging big niggaz down in Memphis
Back in Now-Y, hit the bull's eye with loaded nines
Life is like Tarzan, swingin from a thin vine
Shatter dreams, then mirrors don't need a press spirals
Aim at the white shadows with big barrels
of Moet-ahs, the baldheaders, milk and Amarett-ahs
who fear none, question all personal vendettas, yo
They use guns, while we angrily shot arrows
You better keep your eye on the sparrow!

[Intro/Outro]

(Have integrated a number of corrupt cops, judges and lawyers
into high-level positions - to insure the continued success
of the drug smuggling and money laundering opertaions.)

(feat. Killah Priest)

[Chorus: GZA]
When a motherfucker steps out his place
And gets slapped in his motherfuckin face
Just because the motherfucker tried to base
The G.O.D., the G.O.D.
And while I see his whole click passes by
Motherfuckers think they qualify
And for those niggaz want to try
The G.O.D., the G.O.D.

[Verse One: GZA]
Yo; I'm not caught up in politics
I'm no black activist on a so-called scholar's dick
I come through with the Wu and drop math
And versatile freestyles bombs and phonographs
and deliver, all things and other in weight
Searched to death, on how living things relate
Cause at a young age, I was molded in a religion
I relied on - and got caught up in superstition
Once in a while, threw salt over my back
But with knowledge of self from off the shelf
Made things seemed complicated now small like elves
So turn off the lights light a candle, and have a seance
Pull the lid off the Dean Martin scandal
Witches warlocks spooks and holy ghosts
RZA lets defraud the host

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: GZA]
We were on the same ship when the slaves were checked
I had to pull your card you was on the top deck
So I plotted my escape, I saw the Thin Line Between Love and Hate
And fast from the hog on the plate
I suffered brutal pains, from whips and chains
Punishments that were set to wash the brain
So look listen observe and also respect this jewel
drawed up, di-tect and reflect this
light I shine, that cause my power to be find
through the truth, which manifest through eternal minds
Purified gases and masses the same elements
that helped spark civilization classes
I see brothers quote math plus degrees
Look at professor ass niggaz can't feed they own seeds

[Chorus x2]

[Chorus: GZA and RZA]

I gotcha back, but you best to watch your front
Cause it's the niggaz that front, they be pullin stunts
I gotcha back, but you best to watch your front
Cause it's the niggaz who front (they be pullin stunts)

[Lyrics:]

I was always taught my do's and don'ts
For do's I did, and for don'ts, I said I won't
I'm from Brooklyn, a place where stars are born
Streets are shot up, apartment buildings are torn
and ripped up, stripped up, shacked up and backed up
from fiends, cause the bosses on the scene, they got it cracked up
Kids are slingin in my lobby
Little Steve and Bobby
Gettin paid but it's a life-threatening hobby
Yeah, they still play hide and seek
The fiends seek for the crack, and they hide and let the cops peep
Grown folks say they should be out on their own
Because they lifestyle is hectic, so fuckin hectic
Blaow! Blaow! Blaow! Bullets are ejected
My lifestyle was so far from well
Coulda wrote a book with a title "Age 12 and Goin through Hell"
Then I realized the plan
I'm trapped in a deadly video game, with just one man
So I don't only watch my back, I watch my front
Cause it's the niggaz who front, they be pullin stunts
Back on the Ave of Lavonia and Bristol with a pistol
Stickin up Pamela and Crystal
You know your town is dangerous when you see the strangest
kid come home from doin the bid and nuthin changes
What is the meaning of CRIME (what?)
Is it Criminals Robbin Innocent Motherfuckers Everytime?
Little shorties take walks to the schoolyard
Tryin to solve the puzzles to why is life so hard
Then as soon as they reached the playground, blaow!
Shots ring off and now one of them lay down
It's so hard to escape the gunfire
I wish I could rule it out like an umpire
But it's an everlasting game, and it never cease to exist
Only the players change, so...

[Chorus x3]

[RZA:]
I gotcha back [x8]
I gotcha back so you best to watch your front
Cause it's the niggaz who front, that be pullin stunts
I gotcha back but you best to watch your front
It's the niggaz who front, that be pullin stunts

[Outro: LP version only]

[old man]
Your, tech, nique, is, mag-ni-ficent
When cut across the neck
A sound like wailing winter winds is heard, they say
I'd always hoped to cut someone like that someday
To hear that sound
But to have it happen to my own neck is... ridiculous
[man gasps for air]

(feat. Killah Priest)

The Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth [x3]

[Chorus: x2]

Life is a test many quest the universe
And through my research, I felt the joy and the hurt
The first shall be last and the last shall be first
The basic instructions before leaving earth

[Verse One:]

Knowledge this wisdom, this goes back when I was twelve
I loved doing right but I was trapped in hell
Had mad ideas, sad eyes and tears
Years of fears, but yo my foes couldn't bear
I searched for the truth since my youth
And went to church since birth, but it wasn't worth the loot
that I was paying, plus the praying
I didn't like staying cuz of busy-bodies and dizzy hotties
Had me cooped up lookin at loot, butt, and thighs
Durin the service, he swallowed up the poor
And after they heard this, they wallowed on the floor
But I ignored, and explored my history that was untold
And watched mysteries unfold
And dropped a jewel like Solomon, but never followed men
cause if you do your brain is more hollow than
Space oblivia, or the abyss
With no trace of trivia, left with the hiss
Does it pay to be deaf, dumb and blind?
From a slave we was kept from the mind
And from the caves he crept from behind
And what he gave, was the sect of the swine
When the bible, it condemned the pig
I don't mean to pull your hems or flip your wigs
But we used to wear a turban, but now we're in the urban
No more wearing beanies and dress like a genie
No hocus pocus cause I focus on the facts
And put it on the tracks and brought it through the wax
I speak on Jacob, it might take up some time
And too much knowledge, it might break up the ryhme
I did it anyway just to wake up the mind
of those who kiss stones or prays on the carpet
Those who sit home, or sell books by the market
Need to chill and get their mind revived
For years religion did nothing but divide
The basic instructions before leaving earth

[Chorus]

[Verse Two:]

I strolled through the books of Job to unfold
And open bibles, instead of hoping on revivals
Calling on His name and screaming hallelujah
when he hardly knew ya, that's how the devil's fooled ya
See look into my eyes brethren, that's the lies of a Reverend
Why should you die to go to heaven?
The Earth is already in space, the bible I embrace
A difficult task I had to take
I studied till my eyes was swollen, and only arose when
I found out that we were the chosen
I deal with the truth, and build with the youth
And teach my son as he kneels on the stoop
Son, life is a pool of sin, corrupted wth foolish men
and women with wicked minds, who build picket signs
to legalize abortion, the evil eye distortion
I quiz Son with my wisdom
Before I converted, I was perverted, and knowledge was asserted
The study of wisdom, I perferred it
The understanding, it gave me mental freedom
I even learnt Caucasians were really the Tribe of Edam
The white image, of Christ, is really Cesare Borgia
and uhh, the second son of Pope Alexander
The Sixth of Rome, and once the picture was shown
That's how the devils tricked my dome
I prophesized to save a man, but no one gave a damn
for my nation - the seed of Abraham
Blessed with the tongue of Hebrew
Now we're strung on needles, and some are plungin evils
So study and be wise in these days of darkness
Peace to my nephew Marcus

The basic instructions before leaving earth

[Chorus: repeat to fade]