Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Illusory Protection, artist - GZA. Album song Grandmasters, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 05.12.2019
Record label: Soul Assassins
Song language: English
Illusory Protection |
| When I request my flashing sword… |
| And my hand take hold on judgment… |
| I will take vengeance upon my enemies… |
| And I will repay those that hazed me… |
| When you got bass all in your face |
| Sub woofers pumpin' all throughout the place |
| A fake rap nigga tryna plead his case |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| And if you got beehive’s, right before your eyes |
| About to start shit that’ll attract the flies |
| And then you hear lies, followed by some cries |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| Half of these rap lyrics ain’t thoughts prevoked |
| Just alotta beef, til they get caught in smoke |
| But the problem is never cured, on top of that |
| Most of them be swingin' wild and then drop the bat |
| Many curious spectators, watch the human drama |
| This rap cat was all in the street without his armor |
| A homicidal attempt, that had failed |
| He flew off the roof, on the fence, got impaled |
| He talked a good one, but it was make believe |
| Much too low, for the human ear to perceive |
| He confused science fiction with science facts |
| He couldn’t separate the block, from the recorded tracks |
| Need a rhyme or the tactic, gotta work your magic |
| Detailed and graphic, but the outcome is tragic |
| Something built to a complex network |
| With a panoramic vision, designed by experts |
| I be the ice breaker, for you unskilled skaters |
| I increase the heat significantly, just on paper |
| When you got bass all in your face |
| Sub woofers pumpin' all throughout the place |
| A fake rap nigga tryna plead his case |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| And if you got beehive’s, right before your eyes |
| About to start shit that’ll attract the flies |
| And then you hear lies, followed by some cries |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| No matter what, I’m throwin' an iller dart |
| I can lay a verse, that’ll soften a killer’s heart |
| As fire as a five alarm blaze, that’s too hot to be holding |
| You feel the heat, once the flame pumps lace your clothing |
| What some talk about, had little or no bearing |
| Could the next be some real shit, that’s far from comparing |
| Materialistic M.C.'s, come off boring |
| Meanwhile, I be sketching up, deposit drawings |
| Through the years, a countless, number of victories |
| Changing the era, we swarm unpredictably |
| A rhyme book is not, difficult to manage |
| I leave a mic in a bandage, from catastrophic damage |
| Rap niggas on a trip, gotta steal your sandwich |
| So I creeped, division reports was left on canvas |
| I made it through the worst extremes of cold weather |
| Scuffed up, but remained durable as old leather |
| But I hold the pen, you feel the whiff of Polo wind |
| Something like Jesus, when he civilize older men |
| The math that shed light, all across the borders |
| If our wisdom was the vast expands of fresh waters |
| When you got bass all in your face |
| Sub woofers pumpin' all throughout the place |
| A fake rap nigga tryna plead his case |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| And if you got beehive’s, right before your eyes |
| About to start shit that’ll attract the flies |
| And then you hear lies, followed by some cries |
| It’s about to be, a catastrophe |
| We call it a sword style, because, we are lyrical assassins |
| And we aware that the tongue is symbolic to the sword |
| The lyrical assassins… the lyrical assassins… a sword style… |
| (The procedure is, check with the knight |
| Move the knight away to deliver a discovered check from the queen |
| Then, sacrifice the queen to force the rook next to the king |
| Then mate with the knight) |