Take em to war son (Yeah) Yo wassup dog? Seven commandments, knahmean? Yo son, with the seven commandments
Chorus: (6x) Yo I'm about the army shit, the raw shit The military war hits with gun clips
(Shogun Assasson) Yo, my battleground's where I lounge Fightin wars from dusk til dawn In the trenches of hell There's more blood spilled than Hamburger Hill The planet Earth is the battlefield Enemy troops can't come face to face with death Black mission caught for cold steel The last art drill when I open fire Better aim to kill As the destruction that I reveal like revelations Drop Jews like parables that can't be seen with the eye like constellations You're lost in the nation with no mental vision Unseen strikes your vital like precision I'm camouflged in the large with ammunition
(9th Prince) I'm in deep meditation like the great Indian monk Dowmo Lyrical desperados thrown like a torpedo from black masks like Zorro I froze all the scriptures and literature of killers Riddlers and Hitlers Sick photographers who paint bloody pictures Wu-Tang is the foundation, we movin populations And you can not stand then control the minds of Asians Candy cat raps gets your tongue cut off and run through his back Sabotage savages got stabbed as I watched blood drip from their fabrics Madman ran up in the church and stuck the reverend Stabbed him with a cross, some say he was stuck by the seven The seven commandments Metric equivalents Meaning many niggas died for pleasures
(Dom PaChino) I wagin guerilla warfare, supply the yellow jackets Each one containin a mini sovereign homing missile Fittin your sides ragged Puerto Rican terrorist from the Middle East refusin the mark of the beast Increase your energy by one bar while I unleash Thoughts that remain on your brain like scars for life Made possible by the mic device I slice wieldin a sharp instrument Sharpened in the temple of pyramids Used to drill a hole through the minds of the ignorant It's my assignment burn up the climate usin rays from the sun Dom PaChino madman assassinatin tracks with Shogun
(Street Life) Yo bring it on, I deal with this like my first born My brain form blow MCs away like Desert Storm 21st century crime for you being born US currency got me itchin my palms P.L.O. killer tactics like I support a fact Dead back was the feedback, Park Hill's badass I deal with this shit like it's my last So to speak what you say son go have a blast I'm livin for the city, I burn as the world turn First degree poetry Hold your headpiece, when I release I clear the streets Killarmy passed the heat so I'ma dead the piece P.L.O. is the Street Life out in the streets
(Beretta 9) Mentally I be ready, pass the machette My thoughts travel fast like Mario Andretti Racin through this hellhole or ghetto through the poverty It's all about survival so I can risk the robbery Goin through the struggle, trials and execution This is my solution to this revolution Pay close attention, lyrical precision My mind be my war guide, observe, learn and listen Knowledge before your wisdom unleashed for the children '96 be buildin the stat or be killed in
[Intro: Streetlife (Size/7)] Yeeeeeaah! Yeah Ain't where you from (it's where you at) You got the blunt (I got the Mac) You got the clip (I got the gat) You got the {*click, click*} You got the clip (I got the gat) I got my front (I gotcha back) It's like.. it's like that It's like that - Yeah.. It's like that - Yeah, yeah
[Streetlife] Shaolin What!?! Blood, God and monster truck Come through, splash mud on ya three-piece tux Niggas act bulletproof like they can't get touched Don't make me hop out the sunroof and start hittin you up I'm outta control when the dough's low, rob and tote Never vacated a hoe, bomb with cons and pros I might snatch ya jewels, pawn ya gold Call P.O. and be like - FUCK PAROLE! Y'all have got to go and became a mould Watch me drop and load, FIRE IN THE HOLE! Here to change the game, started sayin names When ya ass get shot, the cops know who the blame You watch too much movies, wanna be all talk and Kane 2Pac, everybody wanna act the same Feel my pain, rap niggas dyin for fame Feel my pain, rap niggas is dyin for fame
[Chorus: Streetlife (Size/7)] (You Wanna Rap?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Tote the Mac?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Lounge in the back?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Platinum plaques?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC?
[Streetlife] Most of y'all rap cats is weak, talk is cheap Check my rap sheet, concrete, strictly Street I put in work, overtime, I build with sleek Hail, rain, sleet, I walks the beat Fucks, M.O. - no justice, no piece Fuck the judge, for feedin my thugs to the beast I know the ledge thats why I keeps one in the head Make one false move, fill ya body with lead I'm true to the game, stay true to my name Off the chain? Quick to put two in ya brain I'm from the Hill, where niggas shoot to kill Test my skill, nigga I wish you will Don't front for me, give niggas lumps in three I beat you down in front ya mom, wife and seed Call ya monks, I'm out to call ya bluff You ain't enough, word up, you straight ass and butt Shaolin What!?!
[Chorus: Streetlife (Size/7)] Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (You Wanna Rap?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Tote the Mac?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Lounge in the back?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Platinum plaques?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Stretch Caddilac?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Blow ya stack?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Flip ya hat?) Who the fuck wanna be an MC? (Pimp like The Mack?)
(Masta Killa) As we return, to the 36 Chambers The RZA, the GZA The Ol Dirty BZA U-God, Chef, the Ghostface Killah And Meth, Rebel I soldier for the foreclosure Don't forget about the Masta, yo
Motherfuckers halt, when my Colt, start stompin Thunder, strikes your land with a jolt Your stamina level is low, like currents from the volts of relentless punishment that multiplies At a speed that the naked eye can't die-tect the infantry, peep the weapon-try as I bomb atomically Stagnant they stood surrounded and astounded by this total square mileage of violence that I brung I've not yet begun to stung It's the ethics, the rigorous training methods of the Abbott, incite overseas to opposition Penetrates then infiltrates Breakin down your resistance Leavin competition defenseless, Masta Hip-hop antagonizer, dumb deaf and blind civilizer with the silencer
(U-God) Psssh, yo Pile-driver Tut boulder face blow Hulk Anger rap book causin chess blade smoke Minds the trunk, punk, elephant gun poke Jaw-breaker humanoid vice-grip, choke Face the inferno, maestro, pull it Pipe hard slang, bite the golden bullet Never, sold my soul Golden Arm cold stinger See me on the streets address me stone bringer Ease away, freeze back, feedback, play out in sweet action packed rap Bite it, stomp on a beat Posess hollow head battle teeth Tony Atlas Wu status, now, wisdom to the masses
(RZA) Cock back my tongue like a hammer, my head is like a nickel-plated bammer, spit forty-five caliber grammar At the speed of wind makes you bleed within Crack your skull, without penetratin your skin Reign of champ official, Wu scamp with black pistols Spent the weekend programmin fat tracks at Camp Cristal
(Method) Home on the range, rebel with a pen writin critically acclaimed scriptures that do you in Mista, Meth, Hot Nickels Say my shit holding my Sex Pistol, deal me in
(RZA) The bewilderin killa bee quickly sting ya I ain't gotta lift one fuckin finga Make sure the God I-reef turns on the ringer, we duckin the subpeona Fatal Flying Guillotine machine from Medina
(MK) Check the 150 millimeter heater as it blows holes through your fuckin speaker (U-God) Makin you weaker creepin inches centimeters (GZA) Fifty caliber street sweeper Shots from Shaolin that go to Masapeaqua
(Method) Things'll never be the same, after this one Ghostrider spit flame, lay back and twist one Recognize the Gods came, for one accord For one mind and one cause, that's the shit Son Play them crows out position You might hear me but you don't listen Competition come and get some on Red marker still bleedin, through the paper of his sick premeditated, murder caper
(Street Life) I walk with the Shaolin strut, burn a dutch Watch Street eat em up, cold crush, bumrush Spot rusher get touched backed up handcuffed Y'all niggaz can't FUCK with us
(Ghostface) Pass me the black velvet embassy suite killin me Spell it Maxi Priest caught me in the days up on Delancy Street Stand solar, deadly vengeance with a crowbar It's like the dreads worshipin Jah, so ha-lo-ha Pineapple crushed 850 swerve it with a rush Plush the Canola Range spittin off the roof, holdin my change Yo it's ragtime, universal 12 Monkey mind It's like, stalkin through your airport *BZZZZZZT* with a chunky nine
(Street Life) The undervolt Staten New York Blood sport gun talk holdin fort back, take em to court (Method: One time) It's the burner Shaolin bound facedown you gets murdered Roadblock shell shocked, stretched on a back block Yo it's warfare when you ring here, slugs fly through midair Landin thugs in wheelchairs from the slugfest Keeps the iron, where the head rest, for the conquest Subway, wordplay ricochet through your projects, crime pays Matched up in a staircase, in a dark place embraced by the trey-eight, I'm in so deep I can't escape These crime situations, I stay in man formation And shot echoes through the ghetto locations y'all remain P.L.O., slam cats like Bam Bam, Bigolo Throw a flow like Nomo relate like Fidel Castro I be the great all pro, hangin MC's by they logos My street journal reacts and blaze like an inferno
So get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind Staff While the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the news like Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lung His father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongue Another youth dead, before the age of twenty-one Left his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slums With a shot that go, for twisted metal for cash flow React slow nigga and get, P.L.O. By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brother who got slain last summer by a cocaine runner A new year is dawning, new crews is forming Rival gangs warring blood steadily pouring The streets are deep Son every day is like a rerun So I reach out and try to teach one But eighty-five percent uncivilized content No tolerance so a lifetime is spent behind a cage bent smoked out on a park bench Killer instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched
*sounds of fighting*
Verse Two: Ghostface Killah
So yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuck Tell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truck To all you slow footed penguins, duckin from these hot rocks that's flamin, chocolate for all you rap Damian's Spraying cards ex-pionage, dodgeball square hard Strip bars, no bras, wet leotards and a mink in, next album blood on Seth Abram Keep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpen Discovery Channel, cats that book at Daniel Coke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboo high school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck out on the regular for robbin a good nigga house Rough cut raw doses, the unexplainable Hot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa
*sounds of fighting*
Verse Three: Inspectah Deck
Ha ha ha ha, yo What you know about this, specialist armed dangerous Hit you close range with this madness Unique design shine like a deep dish The beat kick technique split all your weak shit Yes, the rhythm, the Rebel Alone in my level heat it up past the boiling point of metal Living legend, veteran known to set trend Lethal weapon, step through your section with the Force like Luke Skywalker Rhyme author, orchestrate mind torture Live performer, bit the mic sayanora Borderline to insane, I rain firewater Tape recorder, can't be saved by a court order I got my sword cross your throat you joke
Verse Four: Method Man
We on the run with the golden guns, get you none when it reach out and teach someone, blaze they buns Now I'm guilty by association Times of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practice commence when I throw these darts at these rappers Ricochet, hit the charts, bloody your matress Hold me down, Wu bloodkin, I'm goin in Shootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoction blend like a million All these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word up We can go platinum but then, still can't get no satisfaction Once again, back on the block crumb snatchin Blowin backs in cold Blunted non-assassin, time for action, Johnny Unidas Handle that like arthritis Still, hold a golden touch like King Midas
*swords clash*
Verse Five: RZA
Drown in problems the Heineken's imported from Holland Gettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columns get trapped by drum tracks mac loud as gun claps Pen'll grab the death of a thousand dumb tacks The Wu Sensai fold, it beez the Wind Ninja scroll Soul edged blade controls your inner pole The thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree root I stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruits with Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it means when bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling ("Sometimes...") Pushed through like George Bush Operation Whoops Shots get popped on the block cause them blood to gush From digital to analog, the Wu-Wear camoflogue The entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibar like herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadow Connect the Book of Shaolin like the brothers I know Now Rule
Verse Six: Raekwon the Chef
Stash the cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleama Lex graffiti name reamer, hold em we rollin askin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in Toledo Pussy that shit she passin off to me though We wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, Maxamill You could crash a meal, got you back steel scold em and fold em like the thousand dollar bills sit back eyein y'all niggaz out Fakes that delegate we spittin fire out Verb burgular, design the Wally shoe store reserve a jet status, guidin these vert up on my matress Watch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashion Yo, these hands is flooded and they mad quick Strong approach like magnets, custom wood crane name Stylin rich, RZA made the waves in one chain Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide like step on his Klondike, get your dart right We movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face broke Jury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y'all cats
("Sometimes...") *sounds of fighting*
"May you rot in hell!" "Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!"
