You can see the weakness of a man right through his iris.
RZA, “4th Chamber,” from GZA’s Liquid Swords, 1995. More jewels from RZA…
Got something important to say? Then make it stand out by using the jumbo headline option and get your visitor’s attention right away.
Make peace not war, make babies some more, Keep a smile when you travel from shore to shore.
Full moons, skunk weed all up in the room;
You got the munchies, baby? Ice cold milk and Lorna Doones.
It’s for real though, let’s connect, politic…ditto!
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.
My vocab is powerful, spit shit subliminal,
Slang therapist, my whole style is criminal.
Bugged like Bob Digital, fly visual,
Mind, body and soul, I’m a strong individual…
Come through in the final hour, with gun showers
Stand the fuck up like Flav to fight the power.
I’m an activist, socialist, deadly ass poetist
Supreme Clientele, I’m a goddamn vocalist!
Fuck the Febreze, I’m stinkin’ like that Ol’ Dirty Bastard.
That’s that Wu and Mobb shit; don’t turn it up…blast it.
I got a smile that’ll make the mirror crack,
And I seem to stay under clouds that’s pitch black.
So when it rains, it pours, and when it pours, I’m soaked.
I contracted lung cancer from third hand smoke,
And I’m like the frog that’s dying to be a prince,
The boy who cried wolf and no one was convinced.
The man who hit lotto and lost his ticket,
In a rainstorm…and struck by lightning trying to get it.
It was the beauty that caught me and held my soul hostage…
Remember those days? Had you smellin’ my boxers.
Working hard may help you maintain,
To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain.
Cocaine trafficking, your boy’s back again,
Moving bricks like I got a degree in scaffolding.
Fucking with some cats from Newark…half of them Jewish,
Cool white boys riding around, blasting my music,
And I’m taxin’ them like Jackson-Hewitt.
I be tossin’, enforcin’, my style is awesome.
I’m causin’ more Family Feuds than Richard Dawson.
And the survey said: “You’re dead.”
Fatal Flying Guillotine chops off your fuckin’ head!
Take a sip from the cup of death…
And when you’re shaking my right hand, I’ll stab you with the left.
I got beef with commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth
Lampin’ in a Lexus eatin’ beef.
A born terror, a rebel without a pause…
Ain’t never had a good Christmas, so who is Santa Claus?
Complainin’ to my lawyer how this rookie tried to frisk me…
Jealous of my jeep, I gave his badge to the chief,
And got his ass directin’ traffic in the heat for a week.
Cats be talkin’, “Bobby I ain’t feelin’ ya.”
But I bet if I was peelin’ your cap back with a two-shot Dillinger
Hot lead released from my cylinder,
You’d be talkin’ ‘bout, “Bobby I’m feelin’ ya!”
Feeling mad hostile, wearing Aéropostale,
Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel.
War’s extremely serious and it saddens me.
A day to God is a thousand years,
Men walk around with a thousand fears.
The true joy of love brings a thousand tears,
In the world of desire, there’s a thousand snares.
Anything worth having is hard to keep,
I love you like my coffee, so hot and so sweet.
So, let’s stick it out so we never regret it,
I could forgive the past–but I never forget it.
It was magic, I felt the bond between us.
She was a jelly to my peanuts, Mars to Venus,
The Earth to my sun, moon and stars,
We added up mathematically…
It’s like I had a bad habit, B!
Cancun…catch me in the room, eatin’ grouper.
What is the meaning of C.R.I.M.E.?
Is it Criminals Robbin’ Innocent Muthafuckaz Everytime?
Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet?
Why did Judas rat to the Romans while Jesus slept?
I throw raps that attack like the Japs on Pearl Harbor.
MC’s be out like bank robbers,
Fleeing the scene, to be a sole survivor;
DJ…the getaway driver.
We were at the same table when the chips were checked,
A gamblin’ rebel who inspects the deck.
Just when you thought we would fold our hand,
Against all odds, we raised the bet like we changed the plans.
It was live on air, but in between station breaks,
I was holdin a pair and just made the table stakes.
Split the demos, put insurance on tapes,
A safeguard against the crusaders in capes.
If I double-down, they say the Gods are sharks;
If we win against the house, they thought the cards was marked.
We draw hit after hit from a royal flush menu,
While the dealer promoted the full house venue.
A spade in the club with the heart to wear diamonds,
The high roller who got credit upon signin’.
They look puzzled when I shuffle, most of ‘em stunned by the hustle,
Recourse of bluff game’s your muscle.
Ghostface, catch the blast of a hype verse,
My glock bursts, leave in a hearse, I did worse.
I come rough, tough like an elephant tusk,
Ya head rush, fly like Egyptian musk.
The God’s tropical…ladies call me ‘Black Fruit Punch.’
Keep my planets in orbit,
Never forfeit or quit,
I talk with the awkward slang,
I walk with the Wu-Tang.
Niggas is decaf, I stick ‘em for the C.R.E.A.M.
Lyrics are weak, like clock radio speakers.
If you can’t live, you dying,
You give or you buy in.
Keep it real or keep it moving,
Keep grinding, keep shining.
They say the taste of revenge is sweet.
Well, let me see…
Prepare the table for a feast, take a seat, now let’s eat.