(feat. Spiritual Assassin, War)
[Buddha Monk]
It's the Buddha Monk with that slang that cuts
All you other MC's, it's time for you to duck
Other than the Wu, it's who, I know your crew
I break out on that ass, like glass, mixed with glue
You crazed, never amazed, with a name, you crave
I come with that roughness style, that never fades
You fucked, and you ducked, and you're hit with the front guns
Niggaz should have told you that you're shed of luck
To fuck with my shit, I'm that MC who's a killer
Carried by the track, gonna be leavin spine chillers
Let's get wicked, cuz your style is addictive
It makes me mad, I grab my fuckin biscuit
Dangerous fish, take these looks, and don't approach this
I leave many wonderin, whether I'm God-less
This drama, I drop shit like atom bombs
and if you touch my skill, you're the one it will harm
Why do you want a name that doesn't even fit you?
I'm bustin out with actual facts, your style is wack
Here's the run-down, I'm deadly like a virus
Breakin down foes like the colonize pirates
Why you wanna test the 'chuz?
Like the fourty fuckin beams, what you niggaz wanna do?
Huh? Shootin thru your town, nigga, lay that ass down
It's the sharpness of this tiger that moves with no sound
See me get raw with my sharp-core style
Shotguns, aimin at your chestpiece, BLAOW!
See me get raw with my sharp-core style
Shotguns, aimin at your chestpiece, BLAOW! BLAOW! BLAOW! BLAOW!
Comes from far, but hits very near
It's the one and only, War, things and just peace no more!
[War]
Gotta get the fuckin gauge, cuz niggaz actin stupid
Time for the War to get hype with rebel shit
Bodies droppin, like rain falls, that hit the ground
My sounds breakin hard from the Bronx or the Brown' pound
Avoidin oppenents, niggaz lookin hard and wonderin rocks
I rock knots, and blocks, with my nine, glock
So ease back, War comin thru with the army
If you had Bambino family, you still couldn't harm me
I strap your shack, like I keep your fuckin shipment
War gets civil, react, like a mad villian
>From Sing-Sing, bets that ass and have your things hang
An eight plus one, son, no shame to my fuckin name
The murder plain, who's to blame? What's my name?
War child, son, it's time to rearrange your fuckin face
You're a disgrace to my races
The ghetto nationality, you nimble, cuz I aced it
[Buddha Monk]
See me get raw, with my Brooklyn Zu style
Shotguns aimin at your chestpiece, BLAOW!
See me get raw, with my Brooklyn Zu style
Shotguns aimin at your chestpiece, BLAOW!
We're not finished yet!
You are now about to enter the realm
of, the Spiritual Assassin [echos]
[Spiritual Assassin]
Yo, it stops, leaves your brain
It's not stimulated to bring the pain
I got 'em dazed, runnin thru mazes
without flippin the pages, choppin heads off for ages
Assassin's technique, your grave the punishment
In the light, eyes close, and accurate with the slice
Fightin fear, streets in here, clear
Speak and chi is deep, deep in a vagina
For attacks, gangstas backwards, so I creap up behind you
Like ass, MC's is gased off of diesel
So it's target practicin, with you fuckin weasels
Over the top, your only zone is to get dropped
Wesley Snipes, but I'm the sniper, thirty/thirty
And rust leaks is dirty, it's on my fuckin bullets
Now pull it!
[Buddha Monk]
Ahh.. watch out, here I come with my Deadly Venom
Shootin thru your town like that old Bruce Jenner
You're runnin, lookin for cover, but you discover
I kill like atom bombs, there's no need for deep cover
My missile rocks, flood watch, I missed spots
I'm sure off to return, like Backland suffered germs
many fall victim to the madness of my chemistry
Blink one time, and I'm bound to demolish thee
Ahh.. it's the killa straight from the villa
Riddler, peddler, mind cell dweller
[laughing]
[Outro: Buddha Monk]
So, as you enter the realms [echo] of Manchuz [echo]
There are too many chambers for you to enter without your crew
We lock down, states to states, nations to nations [echo]
cuz this is a Wu-Tang Killa Bees creation [echo]
and we out [echos]
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