Testo Guillotine (Swordz) [feat. Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck & GZA ] - Raekwon
Testo della canzone Guillotine (Swordz) [feat. Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck & GZA ] (Raekwon), tratta dall'album Only Built 4 Cuban Linx
Allow me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin
The special technique of shadowboxing (check it out)
Poisonous (word, word, word), slap (poisonous)
Y'all should slap these -, all y'all niggas for comin' in my fuckin' face with that shit (shh, shh, alright, cool)
Yo, man, go ahead
Poisonous
Poisonous paragraphs smash your phonograph in half
It be the Inspectah Deck on the warpath
First class, leavin' mics with a cast
Causin' ruckus like the aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, here comes the verbal assaulter
Rhymes runnin' wild like a child in a walker
I scored from the inner slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor sharp, I slice the mic from the cord
First to criticize, but now they have become
Mentally paralyzed with hits that I devise
Now I testify, the best is I
Rebel INS, Your Highness, blessed to electrify
With voltage of a eel, truth that I reveal
Will crush the amateurs who scream they keep it real
Caesar black down, hoodied up in fatigues
Part-time minor leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, once I pull back
The God-U and bust through like a fullback
Yo, you 14-carat gold slum computer wizard
Tappin' inside my rap vein causes blizzards
The wildlife that kills for ice trife like by the digits
Gorillas injected with strength of 80 midgets
The Earth spins ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my peeps in, niggas gaspin', swallowin' aspirins
With a dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives, my posters hypnotize with hypnosis
I sell goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural Born Killers
Record-breakin' the album Thriller
Got access to tear gas, bombs and rocket launchers
Flow like dough, Killa Beez is what I sponsor
Your entrepreneur, pens and gear like Shakespeare
When I fuck, I grab hair, collect drawers as souvenirs
Fuck yeah, my crew down German beers
My career's based on guns throwin' cats in wheelchairs
Et cetera, damage any lame-ass competitor
Who try to front, get broken in fast like leathers
Whatever, hot hard-heads get shattered like mirrors
Beretta shots splatter your goose, scatter your feathers
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal with graphic
Flew my family overseas, I'm maxin'
If rap was crack, fully packed, I'd be tall caps
Taxin' kingpin of the rap drug traffickin'
Village niggas get slapped in Manhattan for rappin'
Big Ghost steps off laughin', ha
Were you just using the Wu-Tang school method against me?
I've learned so many styles, forgive me
Sit back, relax, fake niggas don't get turns
Watch me massage your brain with slang that's king
Projects filled with young men cause threats
Who has that? Thousand dollar chains and TECs
Focus, the brokest niggas of life shit
These mics is like cocaine, son, check the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts, tapes for sweepstakes
Keepin' up on fakes, outta state for cakes, no doubt
Plus nobody amount, we makin' dough off
Puttin' 50 on the Land and Allah, it's like that
Pull yo' shoes up, black, matter of fact, just adapt
Tie up your black Nikes and tight hats
Corners stay surrounded with foreigners, what up, dread?
Feds caught your bredren for his bread, but regardless
Peace to jail niggas with charges
Unify layin' in the yard with La
My Clan done ran from Japan to Atlanta with stanima
Slingers and gamblers and gram handlers
Tical, light the Owl cigar, let's get steamed
Infrared guard your beam, so seek 'nuff respect
Rude bwoy, you bet, keep it movin', Mashallah
Pro black like tar, designin' the fly shit and stay shinin'
The RZA pour more beats than Cristal's fine wine
Concrete raps, go to bat
With 50 other niggas on the other side of the map
'Til it's all good and all done, what we want, son
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin' out Macs for fun
The nigga don't get mad, I got mad styles of my own
And it's shown when my hands grip the chrome microphone
Verbally, I catch bodies with cordless shotties
Intriguin' MCs, I keep 'em trained like potties
I bomb facts, my sword is an ax to split backs
Visible, like dope fiend tracks
Sky's the limit, niggas are timid
And nobody knows how we move like wolves in sheep clothes
Producin' data, microchips of software
Underground and off-air, the land of the lost
Notorious henchman from the North
Strikin' niggas where the Mason-Dixon line cross
Credits
Writer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Corey Woods
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