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RZA

Do You Hear the Bells? – RZA

[RZA]
Yea, What’s happening women? What’s happening women?
Yea I got it now, yea yea yea, Yo Bobby Digital, point ’em out
Point ’em out watch me sort ’em out
Can you hear the bells?, I hear bells, can you hear the bells?
We hear the bells, yo the B the O the B the B the Y
The D the I the G the I the T the A the L
Can you hear the bells? Digital digital
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, buh-Bobby, buh-Bobby

[RZA]
Yo fucking up the microphone be my hobby
All you crab motherfuckers out who want to rob me
You best to slob the knob G
You could never catch the great Bobby, indestructible
High producer production
Suck to the wall like suction cups
Yea what the fuck is up you duck
You better slip
Or get your wrist slit
Ultimate legit, can’t quit when it comes to making hits
A phat ass track I quickly program it
For others could see me, its like Smothers brothers
You get spread on bread like the butter
Peanut, what, see what, B what, razor blade cut from
your neck to your gut
Have no shackle
Easy for me to tackle
Best to watch back ’cause my razor sharp style
grapples MC’s
With the eagle claw clutch
I’m just to much to touch
Keep the mike beside me like Starks and Hutch
Word Up quick to roll a dutch and puff it up
Blunts everyday in the month
No need to front
We cause the blood to gush
Operation push, it’s the Wu!
You scarecrow, jump off the road
You best to reload, your gat black
And get your whole shit back phat
Don’t step to me with that
We can’t have that weak that
Bob Digital inside your citadel
Shit is critical, word it’s gonna take a miracle
For MC’s fall to the fallacy
Here’s my rhyme policy
Acknowledge me
I keep the high quantity plus quality
Equal make you see the sequel
Defiant eagles can’t match me or royal regal
Lethal eagle techniques
Word up when I speak the dialect
It makes girls’ pussys get wet
While niggas hit the rewind on my casette
We could make a thousand dollar bet
Bobby never failed yet
Bout to strike gold
Got Big Free on the ones and two
Break it down for them one time

READ  Number One Samurai (Afro Season II Outro) (Feat. 9th Prince) - RZA

[Chorus:]
Do you hear the bells?
I hear the bells
Can you hear the bells?
Bobby, can you hear the bells?
I hear the bells!
Buh-Bobby, Buh-Bobby

[RZA]
Fucking up the mike be a hobby!
Crab motherfuckers try to step up to rob me
Bitch you must be stupid, slob the knob Z
B-O-B-B-Y D-I-G-I-T-A-L, Bobby Digital
Served well keep the phat clientele
I watch you crab niggas fail
Try to sail the boat but couldn’t stay afloat
I float on a note like a Staten Island ferry boat
Keep my rhyme chocolate coat
Bitch you know when you bite my shit it taste sweet
going down your throat
Point ’em out let me sort em out
The fattest links we sport ’em out
Nuts bubbling boosted from extra scouts from Dublin
I could fuck a dozen birds and watch a dozen hatch
I bake my cake from scratch
Keep the cream inside the middle
Make you dribble
That’s when I scribble on the paper
To write this script I had to cut down forty acres of trees
Process the wood to make the notebook sheets
Blinded from the steel spiral imported from Ohio
Delivered like the spin whirlwind kick Morio
Bitch you best to read my bio
First chapter the back breaker chiropractor technique
Word up dislocate your shoulder blade joint
We striking every pressure point
The high priest solid gold diamond fang teeth
With the high tech brief around your neck
I still breach your skin girlfriend
Let me enter your zone
Microphones get cast like stone
Niggas can’t never bone how I bone
Word you soft as a shell
You ain’t worth one skin cell
Big broiler crack your back and your head like an eggshell
And Bobby will scramble you
Bitch you want to make a bet all right we’ll gamble too
Quick to roll see low
Catch the loop like Niko
Duck watch out for Roscoe Pico train
See Sirus with the great dame
Tryin to infiltrate the game
Wu-Tang Clan, Wu-Tang Clan
Special brand name slang
From the book of the Ichang
The world changed once Bobby came
You better go and check your storage
Wait a minute Goldilocks who the fucks been eating my porridge?
Somebody been sitting in my chair
Someone been sleeping in my bed
It ain’t Goldilocks!
Slope down the ice with bobsleds
Bobby smoke ’til his eyes get red
Word up you best to turn your head and don’t look
Inside my rhyme book
You might get your whole soul took
I make the world shake, I make the world shake
Then the whole universe quake and then it shook
Bobby fishy fishy was caught inside my brook
Daddy caught him with a hook
Moma fried him in the pan
And Bobby ate it like a man
Wu-Tang Clan special brand
Get the logo
Bounce on your head with the pogo stick
Rock the wild horse with the Polo
Word up we speaking wild
Quick flash like a photo
Yea, yea Dorothy you better go find Toto cause we
ain’t in Kansas anymore
It’s the killa bee shores, all out war
Before you go here you best to go there
And see it clear
Through your third eye
With a curb, with the high post up most
Don’t play up close
Razor blade technique that strikes you
Overdose MC’s quickly, strictly, hip hoply
You could never stop me, rock me, mock me or pass me
Cause I’m fast like Kawasaki
And when you see me coming through
With the vroom vroom vroom
That means your bitch ass is doomed
So give me room
And stand back and hand that mike back to the man Jack
Unfair black
I slam that track on trains like Amtrak
Go to shaolin isle, that’s where my fams at
What you doing you can’t ripple the gripple son
You get dipped up like Lipton’s tea bags
Or you get spit on like the sea hag
And I smoke a fat tray bag of equality
Don’t bother me
You probably never really heard of B-O-B-B-Y
D-I-G-T-A-L
Supreme Clientele served well
Buh-Bobby fucking up microphones is a hobby
Buh-Bobby, buh-Bobby, buh-Bobby

READ  Drink, Smoke & Fuck - RZA

[Chorus:]
Do you hear the bells?
I hear the bells
Can you hear the bells?

[RZA]
Buh-Bobby, fucking up microphones is my hobby
You get tossed like cracks locked down inside the lobby
Sucker motherfucker stepped up and tried to rob me for my Cuban link
What did he think? What did he think?
What was he thinking? What the fuck was he drinking?
Bitch you be blast in the head like Abe Lincoln
Have you whole body shrinking
Did you believe the killa bees always swarming
Alarming, calming sound that makes MC’s feel how I feel
You best to chill bitch and eat a booger
Word up or get cut up by the juga
Razor blade sharp RZA
Word shame on a nza
Who try to run game on a nza
You get broken down like a puzzle with to many equal prisms
Positions, oppositions
Here’s the transmissions
Word up I raid the phat sample without the glitching
Why you bitchin’? Why you bitchin’?
Buggin out ’cause my style it keeps switchin’, it keeps switchin’
Oh shit I’m itchin’, I’m itchin’ for a scrap can’t catch that
Who could be the match?
Who wanna match palms?
I remain calm
Like the 18 bronze man
Come to the shaolin chamber of danger feel the anger
The mad stranger
Wu-Tang Clan keep a finger
Tucked inside the back pocket
Blast like a rocket
Word up knock your eyes out the socket
Here’s my new topic
I don’t give a fuck if you had a whole neck full of garlic
Around you my fangs will puncture your jugular veins
And you’ll be in deep, deep, deep, deep pain
Why oh why oh why do they try?
To B-O-B-B-Y D-I-G-I-T-A-L
Bobby Digital fucking up mikes a be my hobby
Point ’em out, puh-point ’em out

READ  Must Be Bobby - RZA

[RZA:] Yo this just a little freestyle for ya’ll niggas
Word up, type shit
You could smoke a blunt to this
You could smoke a blunt to this
You could smoke a blunt to this
You could smoke a blunt to this
Word up the main main main main main main main main
main superhero
Word up superhero type shit, my niggas
Can you hear the bells?

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RZA

Throw Your Flag Up (Feat. Black Knights, Ms. Roxy) – RZA

Lirik lagu: Throw Your Flag Up (Feat. Black Knights, Ms. Roxy)

[Intro: RZA]
Eh-yo, Kinetic
What up God? You got that glock cleaned?
Soaked those bullets in oil?
So yo, I’ma call the Black Knights up
and North Star from down in the Westside
KnowwhatImean?
Eh-yo, they gon’ come and blast this shit over
YouknowImean?
Think we don’t need no Shaolin cats for the job
Take it to the Wild Wild West
[beat kicks in]
BOODOODOO..

[Intro Pt. II: Crisis (RZA) {Ms. Roxy}]
Yeah.. (Come on son)
The one and only.. sharpshooter..
(Spark these niggas my nigga)
Yo I speak to be heard {Digital}
The truth shall set you free {Digital}
(Set them niggas free God)
You in a Chamber, in the Chamber {Bobby, Bobby, Bobby..}
(BOODOODOO.. Darkness, you know? Must come to light)

[Crisis (RZA)]
Eh-yo, it’s the sharpshooter
One and only, guarenteed, I ain’t trippin’
Yo it ain’t no comparin’ me to nuttin’ else
Untraceable, like a stealth bomber on your radar
There they are, take a look, yo I spit the uncontainable
Highly flammable, unexplainable, Game Pro
Crisis show you how to tame a hoe, show you how the game should go
So you lames can know, Black Knights equals nuttin’ but dope
So what you workin’ wit? You bitch niggas ain’t hurtin’ shit
Spittin’ commercial shit, we rhyme for different purposes
I spit for the cause, you spit for the broads
I spit for the streets, you spit for the geeks
I spit for North Long Beach and all of my peeps
Holdin’ it down, I spit for the meak
We holdin’ the crown, you savage niggas had your chance
So now it’s on us, it’s just us, you get your bones crushed
You got against us, resist us?
I thinks not (thinks not), it’s impossible [echoes]

READ  Ode to Oren Ishii - RZA

[Break: RZA]
If you live for the blood, +Throw Your Flag Up+
If you got the love in your heart, +Throw Your Flag Up+

[RZA]
Rollie Fingers in the back, son rolled the bag up
Street had the pen and the pad, he threw a tag up
Uncooked beef in the street, they tagged the rag up
Goldie got the clip from the closet and filled the gat up
Bobby sharpened the razor, oiled the bat up
Let the dogs out the basement, pulled the rap up
Somehow the Brown cats about to get clapped up
Pussy high nigga off coke tried to act up
Against the world’s greatest mind, Bob Digital
Might throw a Shaolin Hand-block or a fifty-two
My young son Big Un don’t fuck with Patty Cake
Bound to walk through the woods barefoot, choke a rattlesnake
While his brother Mel ???, dissect it
Up in the project life, the street’s be hectic
The gun burst, son shot his tongue first
Should’ve shot his tongue first, should’ve shot the gun first
Now chew on the Sunburst, bitch, it’s Bobby’s day
Lyrics for the out, click click, like shotti’s spray
Tear through flesh/bone, get lodged up in your ass cheek
Cuz you came talkin’ that same bullshit last week
Fuckin’ cokehead nigga, what? Your brain numb?
I used to wonder where these pussy-clats came from
Up in the thirty-six cell block I Shadowbox
Ship on weed grass and build up like a male ox

[Break: RZA (Monk)]
If you love for the glock, +Throw Your Flag Up+
If you got love for the Gods, +Throw Your Flag Up+
If you live from the heart, +Throw Your Flag Up+
Don’t cause the beef, I might tie the rag up
All my Digihead niggas, roll the bag up
BOODOODOODOO.. and +Throw Your Flag Up+
(If you come from Long Beach, +Throw Your Flag Up+
If you come from Compton, throw your rag up
If you come from the West then throw your hood up
If you come from the block then +Throw Your Flag Up+)

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[Monk]
I spit the flavor for the ear, shit for the streets
Rollin’ in the cutty about five niggas deep
One SK, two Tec-9’s and two sticks
Ready to trip on these fools around my way poppin’ shit
Like the Black Knights don’t air them things out
Knuckle up in the spot ’til someone get drops
Stomped, get passed out
Passed out off a pint of that pah, ready to mic brawl
Clean sweep, took the first pitch, knocked the homerun
Black Knights known to grab mics, leave the spots full blown
You know motto, the +Knights or Nuttin’+, so stop frontin’
Like you ain’t heard this high pitch through your twelve-inch
Don’t care which Alpines, I keep those six-by-nines thumpin’
+Jumpin’ Jumpin’+ like Destiny, I laced it with the Rugged recipe
You know my technique on a Ra’ beat
Speak the Digi slurred speech but aggressive with the mic
On mine, it’s strictly Black Knights
Steal the spotlight, show niggas how to rock mics
the right way, spit like a K, M-o-n-k
The conqueror, smash your sponsor
Learn the lesson from the Black Knight lethal +Silent Weapon+

[Outro x2: Ms. Roxy]
Digital, Digital, Digital..
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby..
Digi, Digi, Digi.

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RZA

N.Y.C. Everything – RZA

Lirik lagu: N.Y.C. Everything

[RZA/Bobby Digital:]
Yo, yo, yo
From the heart of Medina to the head of Fort Greene
Now-Y-C/Now I see Everything
Niggas who sling, Shaolin cats throw inside a bing
Bobby Digital got the golden seal sting
Rhyme star, I write a hundred thousand dollar bar
My pinstripe comma deletes your power bar
Dr. Octopus tentacles, same as different song
Bob Digital instrumental, nothing’s indentitcal
You biter, non-writer, Mr. Potato Head or Ida
Deep-fried crinkle cut, one nickel cup fucked your whole LP up
You must be stupid you liar
I’m the purifier, live wire, hip-hop reviver
A suicide mission you’re committin, go against the Wu-Tang henchmen
Perfect precision marksman, spit darts an, flip charts ‘an
Archery, shots aimed at your heart then
Daffy Duckest will still +Bring Da Motherfuckin Ruckus+
Project Killa Hill be the buckest
Smoke blunts drink Bud Light beer wit Buzz Lightyear
Wet from here to infinity for them white hair
Bobby Digital, overthrow your whole citadel
Mista pitiful, your whole shrap stack is dispicable
Undernourished, your shit cannot flourish
Cherish every moment of his love before you perish
Bitch, chicka chicka chich, watch me switch
Lookin for a bird, I can hitch, into your atmosphere
Take your pussy out like a pap smear
Make you smile, at the same time crack a tear
Smack ya rear, vagina saliva, Trojan wear, rough rider
Up inside ya, dick applehead, opens up your clit wider
Taste the apple cider, you become strong, then become a ?prider?
(Bobby Bobby Bobby, Digi Digi Digi)
Stuck to your ass like a Victoria’s Secret wedgie
Heart of Medina to the head of Fort Greene
Now-Y-C/Now I see Everything
Niggas who sling, Shaolin cats thrown inside the bing
Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting
From the heart of Medina to the head of Fort Green
Now-Y-C Everything, niggas who sling
Shaolin cats is thrown inside the bing
Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting

READ  Passaporto Per Resistere (Feat. Frankie Hi NRG) - RZA

[Method Man:]
Drink a Heineken, as we go inside the mind again
Nevermindin men droppin gem, can he shine again
Most definate, let this be my last willing testament
For the pesimist, exercise for the Exorcist
Johnny Treacherous, like Three, I’m supposed to be
Perpetuous, desimate the poetry cuz everything is close to me
The lectorous, Jonathan, king of the seven seas, battle wit Leviathan
The Methodist, poly to your deficit, hit it up
If I can’t live it up somebody gotta give it up
John J., blow em out the water adopt the Bombay
Your bitch look like Strange’, look at me the wrong way
Burn one and sautee, bringin you different ways to sword play
They bustin Bullets Over Broadway, Deep Cover
I’m like Larry when the Fish-burn, I burn rubber
Cuz I’m not an easy lover
To the midnight, butt naked wit a knife
Ask my a-alikes, I’ve been crazy all my life
Hardtime homicide, time flys, do or die
Crooked ass and crooked eye, scripture from the darkside
Johnny 5, I reside, in the killa bee hive,
only the strong gon’ survive
From the depths of the killa to the top, we’re now born
Wildin on Staten Island be the poet John John
Can’t forget Bobby, if I did I’d feel gyp
Like my sandwich ain’t a sandwich without Miracle Whip
From the depths of the killa to the top, we’re now born
Wildin on Staten Island be the poet John John
Can’t forget Digi, if I did I’d feel gyp
Like my sandwich ain’t a sandwich without Miracle Whip

READ  Number One Samurai (Afro Season II Outro) (Feat. 9th Prince) - RZA
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RZA

Take Sword Pt. I (Feat. Beretta 9) – RZA

Lirik lagu: Take Sword Pt. I (Feat. Beretta 9)

[Intro: “Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang” sample]
“Take the sword”
“The sword?”
“Come on, give me the sword”
“Huh?”
“Heh, you Wu-Tang are never gonna win”
“My lord, don’t be afraid of the Wu-Tang techniques”
“Pick up the sword!”

[RZA:]
Yo, aiyo, chumps are in trouble, boy, tongue pay double, boy
I’m trump tight, you better go home, and cuddle, boy
I leave you ducks in a puddle, buried under cuz of rubble
Turn your body, to sparks and stubbles
Hot lead from the cylinder, from my two-shot dillinger
Put that hot steel in ya, bigger not feeling ya
Bio hazard, to ya flesh and ya fabric
No need to scratch your hair, son, the clean to my static
Strange apparatus and gadgets, my bullets got magnets
Pop pop pop, we attract to that crab shit
Super superior stamina, there’s a Clan of us
All of what bulldozers, hard hats and jack hammers
And leather Old Testament copies, I’ll probably
Give you a out of body experience, then hide your body
So there’s no return, so burn, baby, burn
My click fucking sick, nigga, learn, baby, learn
I got Milwaukee chicks like Shirley and Laverne
They bite ya dick off, after swallowing your sperm
And slice ya fucking throat while you lay there in sperm
They related to the judge, to the case, to the germ
You chumps are in trouble, boy, I said tongue pays double, boy
I”m trump tight, you better go home, and cuddle, boy
I put your head in a puddle, buried under cuz of rubble
Turn your body, to sparks and stubbles
Frickles and fragles, nigga, get too fragile
Pump the fuck up, my brain, is on Scrabble

READ  Number One Samurai (Afro Season II Outro) (Feat. 9th Prince) - RZA

[Beretta 9:]
Aiyo, back for this annual conference, confronted on
You wack MC’s, it’s duck season, the hunt is on
What B9 squeezing and game is locked, a run upon
Thinking that you were the shit, nah, that’s once upon
I doubt my run while you sit, I bust my gun from the hip
Why even make you a song, and when you ain’t worth a skit
My niggas kill for the sum, and the’ll be cursed for the flick
Probably til midnight until, scheeming on pussy to split
And then we back like crack, nigga, take a swig of that
Twist a twenty sack of black, figure, oh he a good kid
Such a nice smile he had, oh one more state
Then I whip it on that, slip slipping in the grass
Sip sipping on the glass, now I’m dipping down the ave.

[Outro: “Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang” sample]
“Take the sword”
“The sword?”
“Come on, give me the sword”
“Huh?”
“Heh, you Wu-Tang are never gonna win”
“My lord, don’t be afraid of the Wu-Tang techniques”

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