Luyện nghe bài hát Guillotinz (Swordz)

Intro: Inspectah

Allow me to demonstrate the of Shaolin
The special of shadowboxing

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

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

paragraphs, smash ya phonograph
in half, it be the Deck on the warpath
First class mics with a cast
Causin ruckus like the aftermath when blast
Run fast, here comes the assaulta
Rhymes runnin wild like a child in a
I scored from the inner slums
And my thoughts are sharp I sliced the mic from the cord
First they criticize, but now have become
mentally paralyzed with hits that I
Now I testify, the rest is I, INS
Ya highness, blessed to
voltage of an eel, truth that I reveal'll
crush the amateurs who screamed to keep it
Caesar black hoodied up and fatigues
time minor leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a wolf pack, once I back
guard you, and bust through like a fullback

Verse Two: Killer a.k.a. Tony Starks

Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum wizard
Tappin my rap vein causes blizzards
Do I the kills for ice trife like botta digits
Gorillas injected with strength of midgets
The Earth spins ruins, rap blends
Let my peeps in, niggaz swallowin aspirins
a dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives my post-its hypnotize with
I sell goods, my whole is on the run like Natural Born Killers
Record-breaking the album
Now access the jig who has bombs and launchers
Float like dope bees is what I sponsor
Ya entrepeneur, pens and gear like
When I fuck I grab hair, collect drawers as
Fuck yeah, my crew down beers
My career is on guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs
Etcetera, damage any ass competitor
Who try to front, get broken and passed like
Whatever hot hardheads get like mirrors
Beretta shots splatter goose, scatter ya feathers
Say never chumps crumbs deal with graphic
my family overseas in mansions
If rap was crack, packed I be tour cats
Tax the kingpin of the rap traffickin
Village niggaz get slapped in
for rappin, big Ghost steps off

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

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

Sit back relax, fake niggaz get turns
Watch me massage ya brain with slang king
Projects filled young men cause threats
Who is that? dollar chains and techs
Focus, the brokest niggaz of life
These mics is like cocaine Sun, check the hype shit
mad blunts taste the sweepstakes
Keepin up on fakes outta for cakes
No doubt, plus amount, we making dough off of
fifty on the Land and Allah, it's like that
Pull ya shoes up black, of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya black Nike's and tight
Corners, surrounded with foreigners
Whattup dread? caught you grudgin for his bread
But regardless, to jail niggaz with charges
Unify layin in the with La
My Clan done ran from to Atlanta, with stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and gram
Tical like the Isle, so God, let's get
Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek respect
Rude bwoy you bet, keep it movin par
Pro black tar
Designin the fly and stay shinin and
the RZA pours beats than Cristal's fine wine
raps go to black
with 50 other niggaz on the side of the map
Knew it's all and all done what, we want some
Mike of this rap shit, pullin out Macs for fun

Four: The Genius/GZA a.k.a. Maximillion

The nigga don't get mad, I got mad of my own
And it's shown when my grip the chrome microphone
Verbally I catch with cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em trained like
I bomb facts, my is an axe
to split invisible, like dope fiend tracks
the limit, niggaz are timid, and nobody knows
How we move like in sheep clothes
Producin data, microchips or
Undaground and off air, the of the Lost
Notorious from the North
Strikin niggaz the Mason-Dixon line crossed