GZA - Shadowboxin'Lyrics

I breaks it down to the bone gristle Ill speaking Scud missile heat seeking Johnny Blazing, nightmares like Wes Craven Niggas gunning, my third eye seen it coming before it happen You know about them fucking Staten kids, they smashing Everything huh, in any shape form or fashion Now everybody talking bout they blasting, hmmm Is you busting steel or is you flashing, hmmm Talking out your asshole You shoulda learnt about the flow and peasy afro Ticallion stallion, chinky-eye and snot-nosed From my naps to the bunion on my big toe I keeps it moving, know just what the fuck I'm doing Rap insomniac, fiend to catch a nigga snoozing Slip the cardiac arrest me, exorcist hip-hop possess me Crunch a nigga like a Nestle, you know my steez Burning to the third degree, sneaky ass alley cat top pedigree The head toucher, industry party bum rusher You don't like it dick up in you fuck ya Allow me to demonstrate That's right, you corny-ass The skill of Shaolin, rap motherfuckers The special technique, better go back and check Of shadowboxing, your fucking stacks Shadowboxing, cause your naps ain't nappy enough And your beats ain't rugged enough, bitch I slayed MC's back in the rec room era My style broke motherfucking backs like Ken Patera Most rap niggas came loud but unheard Once I pulled out, round em off to the nearest third Check these non-visual niggas, with tapes and a portrait Flood the seminar, trying to orbit this corporate Industry, but what them niggas can't see Must break through like the Wu, unexpectedly Protect Ya Neck, my sword still remain imperial Before I blast the mic, RZA scratch off the serial We reign all year round from June to June While niggas bite immediately if not soon Set the lynching, and form the execution date As this two thousand beyond slang suffocate Amplify sample through vacuum tubes compressions Cause RZA, to charge niggas twenty G's a session When my mind start to clicking and the strategy Is mastered the plot thickens, this be that Wu shit I don't give a cotton-pickin' FUCK About a brother tryin to size a nigga up, I hold my own Hard-hat protect your dome Look at Mama baby boy acting like he grown No time for sleep, I gets deep as a baritone Killa bee, that be holding down his honeycomb, lounging son Wu brother number one, protect your neck Flying guillotines here they come, bloody bastards Hard times and killer tactics, spitting words plus Semi-automatic slurs, peep the graphic Novel from the genie bottle, hit the clutch Shift the gear now, full throttle, time to bungee To the next episode, I keeps it grungy Hand on my nut sack, and spitting lunghies At a whack nigga dat, don't understand the fact When it come to RZA tracks I don't know how to act Real rap from the Stat, killa hill projects How to be exact, break it down All in together now Things are getting good looking better now