[Intro: RZA]
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Eh-yo, Kinetic
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What up God? You got that glock cleaned?
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Soaked those bullets in oil?
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So yo, I'ma call the Black Knights up
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and North Star from down in the Westside
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KnowwhatImean?
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Eh-yo, they gon' come and blast this shit over
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YouknowImean?
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Think we don't need no Shaolin cats for the job
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Take it to the Wild Wild West
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{*beat kicks in*}
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BOODOODOO..
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[Intro Pt. II: Crisis (RZA) {Ms. Roxy}]
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Yeah.. (Come on son)
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The one and only.. sharpshooter..
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(Spark these niggas my nigga)
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Yo I speak to be heard {Digital}
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The truth shall set you free {Digital}
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(Set them niggas free God)
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You in a Chamber, in the Chamber {Bobby, Bobby, Bobby..}
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(BOODOODOO.. Darkness, you know? Must come to light)
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[Crisis (RZA)]
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Eh-yo, it's the sharpshooter
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One and only, guarenteed, I ain't trippin'
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Yo it ain't no comparin' me to nuttin' else
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Untraceable, like a stealth bomber on your radar
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There they are, take a look, yo I spit the uncontainable
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Highly flammable, unexplainable, Game Pro
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Crisis show you how to tame a hoe, show you how the game should go
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So you lames can know, Black Knights equals nuttin' but dope
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So what you workin' wit? You bitch niggas ain't hurtin' shit
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Spittin' commercial shit, we rhyme for different purposes
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I spit for the cause, you spit for the broads
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I spit for the streets, you spit for the geeks
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I spit for North Long Beach and all of my peeps
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Holdin' it down, I spit for the meak
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We holdin' the crown, you savage niggas had your chance
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So now it's on us, it's just us, you get your bones crushed
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You got against us, resist us?
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I thinks not (thinks not), it's impossible {*echoes*}
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[Break: RZA]
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If you live for the blood, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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If you got the love in your heart, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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[RZA]
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Rollie Fingers in the back, son rolled the bag up
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Street had the pen and the pad, he threw a tag up
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Uncooked beef in the street, they tagged the rag up
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Goldie got the clip from the closet and filled the gat up
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Bobby sharpened the razor, oiled the bat up
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Let the dogs out the basement, pulled the rap up
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Somehow the Brown cats about to get clapped up
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Pussy high nigga off coke tried to act up
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Against the world's greatest mind, Bob Digital
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Might throw a Shaolin Hand-block or a fifty-two
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My young son Big Un don't fuck with Patty Cake
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Bound to walk through the woods barefoot, choke a rattlesnake
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While his brother Mel ???, dissect it
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Up in the project life, the street's be hectic
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The gun burst, son shot his tongue first
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Should've shot his tongue first, should've shot the gun first
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Now chew on the Sunburst, bitch, it's Bobby's day
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Lyrics for the out, click click, like shotti's spray
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Tear through flesh/bone, get lodged up in your ass cheek
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Cuz you came talkin' that same bullshit last week
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Fuckin' cokehead nigga, what? Your brain numb?
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I used to wonder where these pussy-clats came from
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Up in the thirty-six cell block I Shadowbox
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Ship on weed grass and build up like a male ox
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[Break: RZA (Monk)]
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If you love for the glock, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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If you got love for the Gods, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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If you live from the heart, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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Don't cause the beef, I might tie the rag up
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All my Digihead niggas, roll the bag up
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BOODOODOODOO.. and +Throw Your Flag Up+
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(If you come from Long Beach, +Throw Your Flag Up+
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If you come from Compton, throw your rag up
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If you come from the West then throw your hood up
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If you come from the block then +Throw Your Flag Up+)
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[Monk]
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I spit the flavor for the ear, shit for the streets
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Rollin' in the cutty about five niggas deep
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One SK, two Tec-9's and two sticks
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Ready to trip on these fools around my way poppin' shit
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Like the Black Knights don't air them things out
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Knuckle up in the spot 'til someone get drops
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Stomped, get passed out
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Passed out off a pint of that pah, ready to mic brawl
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Clean sweep, took the first pitch, knocked the homerun
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Black Knights known to grab mics, leave the spots full blown
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You know motto, the +Knights or Nuttin'+, so stop frontin'
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| Like you ain't heard this high pitch through your |
