* also appears on _The Militia Remix_ 12" and the Belly soundtrack
|
|
"A special guest" "It's the militia... It's the militia"
|
|
[Guru]
|
This is a conquest, so I suggest you take a rest
|
Or keep a breath, but definitely keep a vest on that chest
|
Rymes I'm packin, just like a thug at a car-jackin'
|
Shoot off your hat when I start cappin, this is no actin
|
G-A-N-G, S-T-A double R
|
And you don't want no trouble up in here, baby pa
|
From the late-night drama, of the New York streets
|
To the hoods of LA, real niggas likin Primo's beats
|
Put suckers on glass, send em, back to class
|
And kick hot shit, so we can stack the Johnny Cash
|
I brought the God, Rakim, lyrically gunning you wanna dash?
|
I got Dub C, from South C, what you doubt me?
|
Travellin through warzones with my infrared microphone
|
In the year One Mill, destroying, enemies chromozones
|
Words burn through flesh, leavin nothing but skeletal
|
You best pay resepect to the legends, boy I'm tellin you, Militia
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
--The illest-- --Realest-- --Representin--
|
--Bringin the rukkus-- --Let it be known--
|
--The illest-- --Realest-- --Word up--
|
It's The Militia --> Freddie Foxxx *repeat*
|
|
[WC]
|
Makin a move, makin a move, who's that nigga thats makin a move?
|
It's the Shadiest rhymin'-back, actin' a motherfucking fool
|
Four-four packers, my jackets ?hittin the tag? saggin, baggin
|
Foot on my rag, mess up a bag, leavin my enemies in bodybags
|
You niggas was crackin, what y'all thought it wasn't gon' happen?
|
Dub C and my East Coast sisters gettin together rappin
|
Gun-clappin, chump smackin, kiss the ring of your highness
|
Look while I'm in New York City,
|
walkin with two of the Brooklyn's finest
|
My two affiliates from the East we all bang
|
But if y'all don't mind, this is still Westside Connec' Gang
|
Dress-code the same, just new pieces on my neck
|
East Coast brownies, house shoes, and hair nets
|
Y'all can't see this, so peep the sister G is pushin a Six
|
As I freak this, caviar GangStarr Militia remix
|
It's Dub C the jankiest loc', I'm runnin this here
|
With the Guru and New York's hardest, DJ Premier, Militia
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Rakim]
|
Yo, it's The Master, mister, Musical Massacre
|
Passion for disaster, paragraph ambassador
|
R get the red carpet, just call me on
|
Corner the market like the mic's last name was Corleone
|
The facade killer, come through your city like Godzilla
|
Think of the sickest thing you ever seen, Ra's iller
|
My vision's vicious, suspect suspicious
|
Plans is ambitious, my motive's malicious
|
No interferin, if you ain't down, you got to swearin
|
And these cats they ain't carin, habitat awarin
|
Crack appearin, from out the track that I'm hearin
|
It's either that, or I'm going back to racketeering
|
Yo, you should see me, I got a crew like Mussolini
|
But Kool as Moe Dee, my flow be, smooth and easy
|
Pretending every sentence's the wildest, you get the picture?
|
Rakim is, the minist', with malice, Militia
|
|
GangStarr, The R, Dub C, baby pa. Straight up, check it out
|
|
-----------------
|
The Militia II (Remix)
|
| Rakim |
