SHADOWBOXIN'

I breaks it down to the bone gristle

Ill speaking Scud missle heat seeking

Johnny Blazing, nightmares like Wes Craven

Niggaz gunnin, my third eye seen it coming

Before it happen

You know about them fucking Staten

Kids they smashin

Everything huh, in any shape form or fashion

Now everybody talking bout they blastin, hmmm

Is you bustin steel or is you flashin? Hmmm

Talkin 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 movin, know just what the fuck I'm doin

rap insomniac, fiend to catch a nigga snoozing

Slip the cardiac arrest me, excorcist hip-hop posess 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 ya 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 fuckin stacks

(Shadowboxing) Cause your naps ain't nappy enough

And your reefs ain't rugged enough

Bitch

I slayed MC's back in the rec room era

My style broke motherfuckin backs like Ken Patera

Most rap niggaz came loud but unheard

Once I pulled ut, round em off to the nearest third

Check these non visual niggaz, with tapes and a portrait

Flood the seminar, tryin to orbit this corporate

Indsutry, but what them niggaz 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 niggaz bite immediately if not soon

Set the lynchin, and form the execution date

As this two thousand beyond slang suffocate

Amplify sample through vacumn tubes compressions

'Cause RZA, to charge niggaz twenty G's a session

When my mind start to clickin, and the strategy

Is mastered the plot thickens, this be that Wu shit

I don't give a cotten-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 actin like he grown

No time for sleep, I gets deep as a baritone

Killa bee, that be holdin down his honeycomb, loungin son

Wu brother number one, protect your neck

Flying guillotines here they come, bloody bastards

Hard times and killer tactics, spittin 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 nutsac, and spittin lung-ghies

At a wack nigga dat, don't understand the fact

When it come to RZA tra-cks I don't know how to act

Real rap from the Stat, killa hill projects

How to be exact, break it down

All and together now

Things are getting good looking better now