Raekwon The Chef

Raekwon The Chef - Guillotinz Swordz

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Allow me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin
 The special technique of shadowboxing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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