Samurai Showdown (Raise Your Sword)

Lyrics

[Intro] Yo, it's a Samurai Showdown Samurai Showdown... Aight, I Ching Yang, how dare you challenge me You will die from the tip of my sword today Huh, the trenches, we must remain calm Right, prepare to die [Chorus] Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords [Verse 1] Yo, yo, yo hailing from the slums of Shaolin, golden claw, talon twirlin' One swirl of the fatal sword splits your eyelid Wu Killa Beez stinger back on The Swarm again BZZZZZZ, the alarm again Six direction weapon deflecting Bones connect like opposite sides of magnets Steel fragments being chipped off a slinging sword slash With the force of being crashed through your dashboard with no airbag He drove a 99 Jaguar Quick to pick a lock, lick a shot, respect the Bloods and Crips a lot Plus the god for wide sagging in the seat, blasting Wu beats Tryna plot his next hit he took a drag Of the eight elements that composed, atmospheric gas 'Bout to let off his sword and full blast He kept his mind focused, meditation position half lotus Abbot's sword novas couldn't match his magnum opus Deluxe stroke, son moved like a ghost Struck in an instance, unnoticed like a lamp post Radar sharp precision gunfire, explode Till his clips unload, it's the samurai code [Chorus] It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords Time for everyone to go record It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords Time for everybody to go record [Verse 2] Crept in silent, the steel wind Chrome silencers screwed on tight kept the gunshots just sealed in We attack, full fledge With Chicago Bull red bandanas tied tight around our heads Swing with the force of a sledge Single-edge stainless steel blade chopped the wedge Slit this analog derelicts head, who even thought that He could go against the truth and the gods and fall back? From the will of Allah, you'll be facing the firing squad Of a thousand archers out to mark ya The bill top scully king block bullets like jelly beans Birds in my nest resting up on the tele scene Murderous rap track to me, is ego felony Can't accept what you analog cats be telling me I get the verbal weapon, won't hesitate for one second To break your back like Big Jack from Tekken [Chorus] It's Born-Born, young Lord so raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords