Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Deck

me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin
The special of shadowboxing

Poisonous, poisonous (word word)
I should slap all y'all niggaz for coming in my face with that shit
cool yeah, go ahead man...

Verse One: Inspectah Deck a.k.a. INS

Poisonous paragraphs, ya phonograph
in half, it be the Inspectah on the warpath
First class mics with a cast
Causin ruckus like the aftermath when guns
Run fast, here comes the verbal
Rhymes runnin wild like a in a walker
I from the inner slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor I sliced the mic from the cord
they criticize, but now they have become
mentally paralyzed with that I devise
Now I testify, the rest is I, INS
Ya highness, to electrify
with voltage of an eel, truth that I
the amateurs who screamed to keep it real
Caesar black down up and fatigues
Part time minor leagues receive third
Attack like a wolf pack, once I back
guard you, and bust through like a fullback

Verse Ghostface Killer a.k.a. Tony Starks

Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum wizard
Tappin inside my rap vein blizzards
Do I like the kills for ice like botta digits
Gorillas injected with strength of midgets
The Earth spins ruins, rap exotic
Let my peeps in, gaspin swallowin aspirins
a dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives my post-its hypnotize hypnosis
I sell goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural Killers
the album Thriller
Now access the jig who has and rocket launchers
Float like dope killer bees is what I
Ya entrepeneur, and gear like shakespeare
When I fuck I grab hair, collect as souveneirs
Fuck yeah, my crew German beers
My career is based on guns, throwin cats in
Etcetera, any lame ass competitor
Who try to front, get broken and like leathers
Whatever hot hardheads get shattered mirrors
Beretta shots splatter your goose, scatter ya
Say never poetry chumps crumbs deal with
Blew my family overseas in
If rap was crack, fully I be tour cats
Tax the kingpin of the rap drug
Village get slapped in Manhattan
for rappin, big Ghost off laffin

(Were you just using the Wu-Tang method against me?
I've learned so many styles, me)

Three: Raekwon the Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds

Sit back relax, fake don't get turns
Watch me massage ya brain with that's king
Projects filled with young men threats
Who is that? Thousand dollar and techs
Focus, the brokest of life shit
These is like cocaine Sun, check the suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts taste the
Keepin up on fakes outta for cakes
No doubt, nobody amount, we making dough off of
Puttin on the Land and Allah, it's like that
Pull ya up black, matta of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya black and tight hats
Corners, surrounded with foreigners
dread? Feds caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, to jail niggaz with charges
layin in the guard with La
My Clan done ran from Japan to Atlanta, with
Clingers and gamblers, and handlers
Tical the Isle, so God, let's get steamed
Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek nuff
Rude bwoy you bet, it movin par shallah
Pro black tar
Designin the fly and stay shinin and
the RZA pours more beats than Cristal's wine
Concrete raps go to
50 other niggaz on the other side of the map
Knew it's all good and all done what, we want
Mike Tyson of this rap shit, pullin out for fun

Verse Four: The a.k.a. Maximillion

The nigga get mad, I got mad styles of my own
And it's shown when my hands grip the microphone
I catch bodies with cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em trained potties
I facts, my sword is an axe
to split invisible, like dope fiend tracks
Sky's the limit, niggaz are timid, and knows
How we move like wolfs in clothes
Producin data, microchips or
Undaground and off air, the Land of the
henchman from the North
Strikin niggaz where the Mason-Dixon crossed