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RZA

Sickness – RZA

[Intro: RZA]
Yo, the great Digi
“What are you looking for?”
The World’s greatest mind
Bob Digital
“Man with no mother”

[RZA]
Yo, try to cross reference, my epic preference
Fresh mint, tight lint, you get trapped inside the monkey wrench
Ain’t no man lover ever gonna silk the sealer
I’m blessed like the seed who sucked the milk from Mahalia
You wishin’ Shaolin Island could be swallowed up by the sea
Gobbled up, like the lost city of Moore and Atlantis
But I’m fierce as the cyclone winds that blew through Kansas
Have your clan stranded on the enchanted land of Gumas Azubar
Gem blue star, razor blade scar
Who dare wanna spar bar for bar? Allah U Akbar
I turn the most degenerate hood into a pop star
Bless the seed who prays the Most High, without askin’ why
Flicks from ocean shore, kick like Marshall Law
I might strike with the eagle claw or tiger paw
On the shores of African beach, facin’ the east
White sands stretched out as far as the eye can see
Found buried by the sea
The heat of Allah son will crack through Antarctica
We ride blue whales, you sell Nautica ships on the carpenter
We should send all these Devils back to Hell
You small as to die in my sentence, I speak with vengeance
Snatch up 17 million plus 2 million Indians
Your incorrect retrospect on the situation
You didn’t know it was a Wu-Tang affiliation
Legs speak like twigs, you’re forbidden like pig
You can’t fuck with the Zig-Zag-Zig

READ  Wu-Wear: The Garment Renaissance (Feat. Cappadonna, Method Man) - RZA

[Break: RZA]
Raise your sword, and praise the Lord
Enrage the war on this wicked society
Raise your sword, and praise the Lord
Enrage the war on this wicked society

[RZA]
The village must be pillaged
The merciless, the Earth is damp from blood spillage
Cursed the ancestors and the seed of the assailant
Dissect his body like an alien
My seed must be spread
I bust sperm cells with Bobsleds
Then race to the egg and bring forth the
Arm-Leg-Leg-Arm-Head
All you niggas out there who got money
better watch out for the money hungry
Straight up…
The most beloved from a region undiscovered
I’ve been hovered over by black buzzard walkin’ through public
Imagine the feelin’ of growin’ up, ten children
Stuffed inside a shack, in the project buildings
Women, infants and coupons, one stole camel soup on
Stressed out with four kids, aborter
Next door the dope fiend neighbour tryin’ to sell his little daughter
Poisonous, heat from the oven
The only way we had to live was survivin’ off mommy’s lovin’
Dead bodies found in the incinerator
Lights Out, somebody fucked up the generator
Talkin’ welfare, cheese, franks and beans
Mud stains on mock-neck shirts and tainted jeans
Twisted up, how the fuck we get bended up?
And ended up in this four block radius where they enslaved us
Sweatin’ from cheese ravioli with tomato sauce and anchovie
Spoiled, ah shit, my blood boiled
But fuck that, I’m ready for open hand combat
It’s the tomcat, and my thoughts are unlimited
Inflicted fatal wounds and I’m immune, see a evil society

READ  No Refuge (Feat. PARISI) - RZA

[Break: RZA]
So praise the Lord and enrage the war
Against this wicked society, society
Praise the Lord and raise your sword
Against this wicked society, society
Praise the Lord and raise your sword
Against this wicked society

[RZA]
There was a legend of a +Liquid Sword+
That was +Only Built 4+ niggas with +Cuban Linx+
Who +Entered the 36th Chamber+
and keep the true links, inherit +The W+ emblem
Movin’ the muscle changin’ and bone tendon bendin’
Science of 25 thousand year millennium
The sinners from the men who exiled the Indians from India
Who’s times can’t be measured linear
In all tribes on Earth who can’t find a friendlier group of people
who shunt all evil, treat all men equal
Even though we see through your wicked intentions
We gave you land to experiment with your inventions
But you strive for global lynchin’, extension
But it’s yourself that will become extinct
You inherit this power to think and build things
The free wills of love, not hate or kill things
And when you went astray, we sent prophets to reveal things
And left scriptures behind to fulfill things
But you still wanna kill things, rob and steal things
So don’t blame us when it’s time to fulfill things and kill Kings

[Break: RZA]
Raise the sword and praise the Lord
On this wicked society, society
Raise your sword and praise the Lord
It’s a wicked society, society
Praise the Lord and raise your sword
Against this wicked society
Rage the war
Against this wicked society

READ  We Pop (Remix) (Feat. Crooked I, E-40, Jayo Felony, King Tech, Lady Plat) - RZA

[Outro: RZA]
Yo, the +Sickness+
That’s what I want
“What are you looking for?”
“Man with no mother”
That’s what I want
“What are you looking for?”
“Man with no mother”

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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  We Pop (Remix) (Feat. Crooked I, E-40, Jayo Felony, King Tech, Lady Plat) - 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  Domestic Violence Pt. 2 (Feat. Big Gipp) - 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  Fast Cars (Feat. Erica Bryant, Ghostface Killah) - 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

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[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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