The Return

Lyrics

[Intro] "State-of-the-art music" "State-of-the-art" "[?]" "From the golden era" "State-of-the-art music" "State-of-the-art" "5000 booming watts Sound system, state of the art" "[?]" "Blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now" [Verse 1: Suffa & Pressure] Duck and cover 'Cause when you fuck with Suffa it's like the bombs dropped You spit like Bon Jovi, we spit like Bon Scott We got it on lock, deadlock, non-stop, head-nod Even when the song stop Step in the cypher and it's danger I'll set the Pressure on you like a hyperbaric chamber And he don't fuck around, we gained such renown For this state of the art custom sound For them custom built rappers with underskilled narratives The good die young, me and Suff' are still bad with this Rhyme style, it's lethal, prime time the sequel Ain't got a single fan, just like-minded people I told you from the start, I'm a soldier of the art Effortless, take every breath and hold it to your heart With Debris and my brother Suffa, so watch another sucker run for cover It's the return of the motherfuckin' motherfuckers [Chorus: Suffa, GZA, Suffa & GZA, Lil' Fame] I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did (Listen, I don't know) How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid Mr. Debris, blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now [Verse 2: Suffa, Pressure, Pressure & Suffa] Obsessive compulsive, repulsive, insulting Offensive like feedin' a vegan some dolphin Assaulting the system (A system that's broken) The cistern is broken, the shit is just floating I spit 'til your open underground P-Dela-Ressure and he don't fuck around Now album number five (Worked hard to earn that) No doubt, it was a fight (Too far to turn back) I step in the sun, take the weather however it comes Although I'm a second son, I'm second to none Lesson is done, what goes around comes around Suffa's down, and he don't fuck around The Hood spits the news like Wolf Blitzer, crews Fear the pit bull in the pulpit, yo, it's the World War Three in a whisper – the Mr Suffa And Mr Pressure, we spits it fresher (We rips it rougher) [Chorus: Suffa, GZA, Suffa & GZA] I don't give a goddamn, listen, I don't know How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid [Interlude] "[?] the boys we got punters coming through the windows They're coming through the ceiling [?] coming from the floorboards, man Bring those boys down here I want them on stage right now!" [Verse 3: Pressure & Suffa] Your nemesis on verses, the desperate and worthless Try flame the name, we can wrestle in a furnace (Never) Came half-hearted (Never) Came last started Every day like it's my last till my craft's mastered (And we can get it on) I'm at peace with myself 'Cause there's a piece of myself in every song I don't just write rhymes, I spent a lifetime buildin' A lifeline accommodatin' night times children Now they love the sound, play me with a gravyspitter And he don't fuck around, check Ain't no steppin' to me 'Cause P and Suffa bad mothers like Treacherous Three, so (Feel the heartbeat, feel the heartbeat) You feel your heart's weak 'cause still you can't beat The Hills and aren't we just still too rugged? I can feel you love it, we the real blue blooded, c'mon! [Chorus: Suffa, GZA, Suffa & GZA, Lil' Fame] I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did (Listen, I don't know) How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid I don't give a goddamn on the shows you did (Listen, I don't know) How many rhymes you got or who knows you kid Mr. Debris, blow the horns on 'em, not now but right now