| Yeah… Vinnie Paz, baby
|
| Yeah… yeah… yeah
|
| This is raw, all across the board, Liquid Sword Chamber
|
| If it’s coming from my jaw, then it’s pure anger
|
| Heavy metal rap, with a four four banger
|
| We can settle that, let the mic cord hang ya
|
| I play homage to the best of them, like Christopher Wallace
|
| And bring drama to the rest of 'em, with biscuits from copers
|
| I’m with Allah Justice, and we raw gritty
|
| Picture how, in a dial, to New York City
|
| I brought a four with me, we can capture the ring
|
| And now we more merciless than the Statue of Ming
|
| And ya’ll are more purpose, listen, the pastor is king
|
| You gon' die, like a brawl with a gat in the Bing
|
| It’s a passionate thing, the way we make classics
|
| Genuine brill yitz orinate madness
|
| Yeah, we all spin on the same axis
|
| And this chrome thing here, leave your frame backwards
|
| The police always try’nna aim flame at us
|
| So I don’t mind when the fuckin' brain splatters
|
| I don’t mind, that we all gon' die soon
|
| I return to the silence of God’s tomb
|
| «There's no escapin', once the blade starts scrapin'»
|
| «My sword, indeed, make more niggaz bleed»
|
| «Wannabe MC’s is shakin'»
|
| «So swift, naked eye couldn’t record the speed»
|
| I don’t believe what I’m seeing, I don’t believe it.
|
| Ladies and gentlemen, at this time
|
| We ask you to please rise (you'll never quit
|
| No one will ever get it, there’s no thing quit)
|
| Imagine a rhyme in it’s prime, from off the baselines
|
| Skyscraper verticals, support the hang time
|
| Evidence that was left at the scene of the crime
|
| Trace back to a few, from out a group of nine
|
| Who performed well, regardless to the price of the tickets
|
| Off or on stage, whatever, still kick it
|
| With the footwork, of Freddie Adu, it’s all new
|
| Now the rap commisioners, they wanna clone my shoe
|
| But the road’s narrow, and it’s difficult to climb
|
| With the heat, the wind and the fallen rocks combined
|
| It’s hard to stay in line, the course is an obsticle
|
| Within each chamber, the force is unstoppable
|
| Lyrical swordsman, blades sharp, I cut out your heart
|
| M.C.'s want no part, in any type of conflict
|
| Because then I respond quick, it gets Vick
|
| The problem goes beyond sick
|
| (Wearin' red trunks with silver trim, fightin' outta Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)
|
| This is how we do (His game is tight, and there’s nothing to do)
|
| Pazmanian Devil, Frank Sinatra, Jedi Mind, Wu-Tang
|
| What’s the deal, baby? |
| GZA/Genius, Stoupe on the track, yeah
|
| My man Soop on the boards
|
| Those who dare oppose us shall stand knee deep in the blood of their children
|
| Is that he who fondles the pleasure of Allah
|
| Like him who has made himself reservin' the displeasure from Allah
|
| And his abode and how, and it is an evil destination…) |