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with Ghostface Killah from The Great White Hype soundtrack Intro: RZA and Ghostface, Raekwon () and somebody [] Word. Man fuck that nigga Fuck that crab, ass, bitch [Who the live niggaz youknowhatI'msayin?] [You niggaz know how to shoot joints] (Put down the gun son) [Elmira, Riker's Island, coming from Brownsville] (Put down the gun son) Niggaz tried to front on my little sister (Put down the gun) [YouknowhatI'msayin we represent youknowhatI'msayin?] [YouknowhatI'msayin? Big Tony Rhome, peace to my man Tony Rhome] They tried to, tried to front on this (Put down the gun son) [RZA respect youknowhatI'msayin? We keep it real] Yeah, check it out y'all (put down the, put down the gun son) [Put your guns down, throw your hands up] It's on like that y'all word up, Iron Man comes back [Represent, you niggaz gotta shoot joints] Yo check it Verse One: RZA Put away your heaters, throw up your dick beaters Accurate blows to his nose shut his eyes closed to a centimeter Bitches on the fences wonderin what the fuck the suspense is I land heavy uppercuts in the corner of the park fences SongtexteKnocked his mouthpiece front teeth got locked inside my knuckle He grabbed the belt buckle, attempt to catch me with a couple of low blows to the nuts, on ringside was as a giant du-els Send your Barb for this fuckin jew On a Wire He couldn't chessbox that's when he reached for his ahhs Brother chopped me on the top of my knot, but he got stopped When a twelve ounce bottle of Bartyle and James had him startled A bitch threw it caught him in his head, at full throttle He fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't saved by the bell That was his ass black So when it comes to physical combat We can take it hand to hand or go beyond that Do you want my gat to make the contact? Retirin cats who lack the heart to fire back? [We take all crabs overboard] Chorus: Raekwon Put down the gun son, son matter of fact, shoot the one on one Hold it down, make sure the head, sure nuff don't hit the ground Lampin on the handball courts, or the square, we can take it there Settle it son, who the champion? [It's like that, niggaz want to front, one more time? I'ma show you like this. One on each side This is it word up. We gonna lay you back We gonna rest your back, you won't know how to act When it come to bigger, showin and provin Niggaz styles is wack] Who the champion? Settle it son. Verse Two: Ghostface Killer Yo! I had to run up on this King at Devine, for his shines He saw the stash and caught my mailbox for eighty dimes He saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for mega fiends I held it down like the finger fly miraculous King Peep through the heavy small get the camoflouge Starks master in charge, pushin through ery buildin, sippin egg nog Niggaz know my status God body carry big batters Fiends know me for my blue bags, besides smackin crabs and earnin mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back bent What the hell just made him fuck with my intelligent? Back to Polly and I heard some noise we pack a two twelve There go Lord Shamel, faggot made a sale He's sellin my shit, I should slap fire out his ass Snap his bones in half and watch the stock market crash I walked up on him, he had the nerve to say Peace God Ain't nuttin Peace God, you stole it now we out in the streets Take your shit off, nigga you soft, back up off Youse a shady nigga, I'm a sever fig you with a gloss I snuffed him, threw a crazy left and I cuffed him Allah don't like ugly so I held back from bustin him I passed the burn off, he caught me from the blind side Tapped a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and crazy raw I had my ice on, tapped a few times, he started leakin De King with the deadarm, Shamel fell to his knees and He started wheezin, losin his breath from smokin trees and I'm still breathin, bleedin because it's frontin season Now I got that project belt, international/national Worldwide, I let Shamel slide Chorus Aus Songtexte Mania