Lyrics

[Intro: RZA] Kill this shit, you're on You're on, you're on, you're on Yo, Rakeem, you're on To the brother Shaquan, you're on Yo, U-G, U-G, you're on Tone it [Verse 1: Shaquan] Shakuan is piza-pumpin', I keep a party jumping Kick your head muffin, do the hustle and the bump in 'em House are jumpin', chumps that be frontin' You boo, (boo), but you can't boo be 'nuff And I toss and turn ya, bake ya while I burn ya 'Throw you down a river', like Tina Turner Cuz this time you learn, to respect what you can't fuck with You'll lose a nut, bang the top, if you'se'll bust it Relax, Jack, feel my sound as it goes up and down your back Drop on is a natural, that means I got the knack Smack, or you'll be lost just like a tourist with no map Slap, smack, jab, and all of that Is what happen, when I start to rap and I style is rare, like a burger, with the dap in 'em I do damage, the biters try to slam it Today's recipe, is a fucking knuckle sandwich I get wreck, on hip hop songs So U! You're on [Verse 2: U-God] Don't like to lose, just like to gain Rhyme remains in your cell membrane Like the pain of a permament big stain Run MCs over like a forty ton train When I rain, I pour, on they rhyme, I roar Into the blue yonder, I will sore With poetry and words, flippin' on birds I'm all the things, I'm emotionally disturbed Because on paper, I develop small capers That are made by who, the Panty Raiders With mind in wish, I'll have a rhyme evict If you slip, your hit, I will call, the mile rip In the chard, this word is bond, on the squad Your song will survive and the weak will depart I have the boneless, funky rap song (rap song) Yo, Ra, you're on [Verse 3: RZA] Those who try to oppose me, or even overthrow me Be taking more falls than Wile E. Coyote You can't snag me, rag-tag or bag me I'd have your ass running like Scooby-Doo and Shaggy Make decisions, to what, "Catch that pigeon!" But I escape, right from ya fuckin' vision Blasted, as I mastered, you bastard You try to get slick like faster, Dick Dastard I got the remedy, to kill off my enemy Carry two guns on my side like Yosemite Sam, god damn, my style is mad slang I slam, that's the kind of man that I man The black butterfly, who wet a guy, what a guy Rhymes and harmony like a soft lullaby Feel it there, keeps MCs in fear Irritate like a fly, buzzing in your ear Until your head is gettin' warn Yo, Shakuan... you're on [Verse 4: Shaquan] I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, now I'm moody Brothers tryin' to fuck me, must think I'm booty People causing static, as if I'm tryna have it But like a .45, I flip, it's automatic It all dates back, to when I was a youngster Where if you didn't fight back, then you were called a sucker Or got played, every time you walked a block Even little kids would come up and snatch your pops I had to fight to maintain my self aggression Been good with my hands ever since my adolescence Fuck with bitches, even school teachers Smacking a girl that would dare suck her teeth, to It's buckwild, type juvenile delinquent Problem child, type of everyday stink kid That's how it is, when Shaquan perform Yo U, you're on [Verse 5: U-God] Ride to live, like an A-1 honcho Come equipped, with bombs, ready to launch those Give me the microphone and some paper Let my mind develop, a small caper I only missed an MC by an abrasion This only happens, solely on occassion I rhyme, I fade, to, where I'mma play Not to no man, but to, your rhyming way At a slow pace, but at a young young age Lettin' loose, with an emotional rage All out rapper, now to have that stemi' But yo, gimme my, gimme my, gimme Young young ladies, lookin' pretty in the '60 Kick off that glamour tip, and gimme gimme Mines, and you can't go wrong Yo Ra (yo, what's up G?) You're on [Verse 6: Prince Rakeem] It seems nowadays that I live for the moment To engage in warfare, with the next opponent The microphone is grown, as I bloom it From the first rhyme, your whole poose is wounded Ear drums get ripped up, lips get zipped up, tight You play Superman, I play the Kryptonite Because I'm rugged, like luggage from Samsonite The girls love it, the Ra's quite handsome, right? I could come rugged and move it, without a doubt Gun in my pocket, and mad choppers in my mouth Posse on the side, going out for the cause Girls that appear, layin' up in their drawers Blunt between my lips, forty dogs in a grip Bullets in my clip, my gift left me deaf That's apparent, from my every day channel Just alone, that I'm known, the bone is gray flannel Not too weak and not too strong