Swinging Swords

歌詞

<Chorus> These rhythms can't deface me Hot rhythms stimulate me Can't help but swing it boy Swing it brother swing Don't stop the beat that's slapped this foolish brat Come on swing me boys Swing it brother swing <9th Prince-Over Chorus> Word up, let's take 'em to war, son Show 'em how it should be done It's real God Yeah, Yeah Stimulate the brain cells Check it, Check it <9th Prince> Yo Killarmy bounty killers Industry kid shivers Shells up through your liver Dead corp float the rivers Murderous style is superior from Shaolin to Nigeria Stalking through the monitor With the wisdom for dynamical fessor (?) Lyrical kid in processor Nat Turner was my militant ancestor I capture your mind put in isolation Control the soul automation Victims became mechanical slaves again Read the East Coast historian As you oppose this Your walking dead soldiers can't get close to this I be splitting shit like Moses Then celebrate with Guns 'n Roses I turn soundtracks into startracks My tongue is symbolic to an axe I used to be caught up in the world of Mad Max Now come against the consequence of the 9th Prince I sit upon my throne and chop off domes Then send them home to your peoples So they can sew 'em <Chorus-First Half> <Dom Pachino> Thoughts I generate like high forms of energy My brain's energetic Ultramagnetic synthetic Burn like oil High octane let it drain upon the Shaolin soil You get trapped inside my rap coils Like my phalanges rip the microphone When I recite a war poem It's writen in my soldier's log It's a Killarmy espionage Puerto Rican mobster in camouflage Perform at the Mirage my entourage Get the ticket through Telecharge as I massage lyrics get enlarged Grenade particles rip through your fatigue articles You flee for shelter My tre pound rounds'll melt you Like camouflage vinyl in the force of Delta <Chorus-Whole> <Killa Sin-Over Chorus> What, what, one time Come on, swing it Bring it, what Killarm, yeah, swing it The Gods gonna bring it Real, what <Killa Sin> Yo, yo You either get down shut the fuck up or catch an uppercut Rough enough to muffle up your jaw when we knuckle up Knuckle what? Bacardi hit me harder than you You crash dummies show respect when the Gods is coming through Eyes swollen up the size of coconuts Your body folding up Allah the soldier struck and through the cut I walk and hold you up Sit back hang from your hip like loose Kani's Try to flip it on the strength of your wis' and let you slide Savage eighty five trying to test sides True we're living thirty two shots We're sending a rocket to your prison Caught you bubbling Like a cold sore the money coming in Juggling the church and street life you got me wonderng and catch 'em I let Allah bless 'em That's the question You dealing with a madman's profession So choose your weapon <?-Chorus Heard in Background> Word up, Killarmy Taking y'all to another war ground Hold down the battlefield, word up Shout outs to all my Universal Soldiers Killarmy, word up Deep Space 9, the Clan, word up Sunz of Man My nigga High Style, word up To all the soldiers in all the fifty two planets New York, Ohio Philadelphia, word up My Anna locked down Atlanta, for real Little Rock, Miami Pittsburgh, word up Washington D.C., upstate for real To all my juvenile niggas that's locked up in Tober Center Word up, Ryker's Island Peace to Big Queen (?) and Supreme Word up the God and General Wise General Wah Word up to the last soldiers My nigga Islord still locked down in the jungle, son Word up keep your sword up son, Killarmy gonna represent this shit, son Word up, peace Get out of here Peace