Lyrics The Militia II (Feat. W.C. And Rakim) - Gang Starr, WC, Rakim

The Militia II (Feat. W.C. And Rakim)

«theres a bulletin — state police, princeton junction»
«the militia…
Certain individuals of unidentified nature
Is now under complete control»
«hip-hop is not, what it is today.»
«its the real *echoes*… its the (militia)»
Verse one: big shug
If heads only knew how I felt about the rap game
Theyd relocate, and change their fuckin name
I eradicate movefakers, roll with coat shakers
Give dap to mad money makers
Shared cells with lifetakers, have sex with rumpshakers
I make moves so ima earthquaker
Ive been known to instill fear
Although the world may be round, we still trapped in the square
City light, got me buggin and trife
Some die by the gun, some die by the knife
Its alright, like a game of spades Im trump tight
Premier hit me with music to ensure that it thump right
And my flight, will be taken solely at night
Cause thats when the freaks come out, no doubt
And in the dark hours is when I will shower
With the knowledge of my trade to get paid
Still I make moves like a snake in the grass, roundabout
I be dickin it down while you be assed out
Puff mad ls but never passed out
And if Im caught up in a jam I blast my way out
Therell be no lettin up, just straight shuttin up Or well start the wettin up Lyrical infrared sceptor never miss you
Big shug, guru, freddie foxxx, the militia, militia
Chorus: freddie foxxx
Everybodys spittin it, the rhyme is hot
Cause its big shug, guru, and freddie the foxxx
When premier bring the beats, no it just dont stop
Its the militia *echoes*
Verse two: guru
Yo;
I aint one to succumb to no man, but to command
And scoop up the troops when its time to take a stand
Emphatically, deep strategies leave casualties
I creep gradually, til everybody knows
That I got more flows than rosebud got hoes
The anger inside had me trapped
Til I got geared up with raps to tear you up like big gats
For big stacks, watch your back when I send em in Caught you tremblin, my name and face youre rememberin
Several attempts, but nah bitch, youll never win
Rhymes pierce your skin or maybe limbs well be severin
Take you to the mat, peep that, you should keep back
My ill-kid format will lay you flat like a doormat
That I walk on, I meditate while you talk on And gossip, so I drop my hot shit;
fully loaded glock clips
So get the fuck out my block, kid
As nights turn to days, days go back to nights, we be speaking it right
And keeping it tight up in the street life
I meet life, head on, no holds barred
Born with a heart of gold, now mostly cold and scarred
En guard, choose your weapon, or get to steppin
Lyrical bullets make you dance from the trance you be kept in Assessments are made before, and during combat
I master my hunger, blow the spot when I bomb cats
One of us, equals many of us Disrespect one of us, youll see plenty of us Conflict, is what I predict
You and your fellas is mad jealous, attempting to flare
We cleverly stalked ya, your famll miss ya The wars on, thats why we formed the militia
Verse three: freddie foxxx
You niggaz owe me for my rhymes, I come to collect
For you dope fiend niggaz in rap, I here to inject, check
My style is water baby, spread it around
But when you niggaz dont flow it right and fuck up my sound
I get down;
in 89 I spit the buck in the face
Of every mc that came in the place, a scar youll never erase
Mcs are only recognized for their flows
Im worldwide for the bitches, that I turned into hoes
You heard me spit it on jew-elz, thats how it goes
For all them faking ass niggaz and how I bust up they nose
And while your, nose is drippin, and drainin blood
I be standing over you screamin, «nigga, what, what?
!
nigga what?
!»
Niggas feel my presence, like Im right in they palm
Cause a stormy day is coming, when you see me so calm, its on No more twin glocks, they jam up my plays
Now its twin .40 calibre walther ppks
Im in the control of my game, you must respect me like the ref
Uh-huh, you disrespect *gun clicks* you get the tech
I turn you fake niggaz on and off, like Im the clapper
I rob so many niggaz, they should call me jack the rapper
Ill the illest nigga doing this, dead or alive
Gloria gaynor on you motherfuckers, I will survive
You can try to come at me, but do you want the kick back?
You snap inside the cage of a pit, and you get bit back, huh
My war is so tight, my drama so ill
Beef with me hangs around like a unpaid bill
I push these lyrics through any mc, and make it burn
So the niggaz who be rhyming next, will miss a turn
When you speak of whos the dopest mc, I dont come up But when you speak of whos the livest mc, I stay what up, whats up?
I got stripes while you got strikes and bogus mikes
Do what bitch niggaz do best *utfo sample* bite
You niggaz cant make up a law that I dont overrule, overthrow
Prim brought bumpy these tracks so I can let you know
Before I slide ima leave you this jewel
Even mechanics walk around with they tools
Its the militia