![4th Chamber - GZA/Genius](https://cdn.muztext.com/i/32847534373793925347.jpg)
Date of issue: 06.11.1995
Record label: A Geffen Records Release;
Song language: English
4th Chamber |
Choose the sword, and you will join me Choose the ball, and you join your mother… in death |
You dont understand my words, but you must choose |
So… come boy, choose life or death |
Verse one: ghostface killah |
The only man I hold wake for |
Is the sky-blue bally kid, in eighty-three, rocked taylors |
My memorex performed tape decks, my own phone sex |
Watch out for haiti bitches, I heard they throw hex |
Yo, wu whole platoon is filled with rac-coons |
Corner sittin wine niggaz sippin apple boone, this aint no white cartoon |
Cuz I be duckin crazy spades |
The kid hold white shit, like blacks rock ashy legs |
Why is the sky blue? |
why is water wet? |
Why did judas rat to romans while jesus slept? |
stand up Youre out of luck like two dogs stuck |
Iron man be sippin rum, out of stanley cups, unflammable |
Noriega, aimin knives which stay windy in chicago |
Spine-tingle, mind boggles |
Kangols in rainbow colors, promoters try to hold dough |
Give me mine before po, wrap you up in so-and-so |
I ran the dark ages, constantine and great henry the eighth |
Built with ghengis khan, the wreck suede wiley don |
Verse two: killah priest |
I judge wisely, as if nothin ever surprise me Loungin, between two pillars of ivory |
Im lively, my dome piece, is like buildin stones in greece |
My poems are deep from ancient thrones I speak |
Im overwhelmed, as my mind, roams the realm |
My eyes the vision, memory is the film |
Others act sub-tile, but they fragile above clouds |
They act wild and couldnt budge a crowd |
No matter how loud they get, though they growl and spit |
Clutch they fists, and throw up signs like a crip |
And throw all types of fits |
I leave em split, like ass cheeks and ragged pussy lips |
Verse three: the rza |
Aiyyo, camoflouge chameleon, ninjas scalin your buildin |
No time to grab the gun they already got your wife and children |
A hit was sent, from the president, to rage your residence |
Because you had secret evidence, and documents |
On how they raped the continents, and its the prominent |
Dominant islamic, asiatic black hebrew |
The year two thousand and two, the battles filled with the wu Six million devils just died from the bubonic flu |
Or the ebola virus, under the reign of king cyrus |
You can see the weakness of a man right through his iris |
Un-loyal snakes get thrown in boilin lakes |
Of hot oil, it boils your skin, chickenheads gettin slim |
Like olive oyl, only plant the seed deep inside fertile soil |
Fortified with essential, vitamin and mineral |
Use the sky for a blanket, stuffin clouds inside my pillow |
Rollin with the lands, the tribes a hundred and forty four thousand chosen |
Protons electrons always cause explosions |
Verse four: the genius/gza (maximillion) |
The banks of g, all cream downs a vet |
Money feed good, opposites off the set |
It aint hard to see, my seeds need god-degree |
I got mouths to feed, unnecessary beef is more cows to breed |
Im on some tax free shit by any means |
Whether bound to hit scheme or some counterfeit cream |
I learned much from such with cons who run scams |
Veterans got the game spiced like hams |
And from that, sons are born and guns are drawn |
Clips are fully loaded, and then blood floods the lawn |
Disciplinary action was a fraction of strength |
That made me truncate the limp on temp |
With the stump, treat his hips like air pumps |
Rza shaped the track, niggaz caught razor bumps |
Scarred tryin to figure who invented |
This unprecented, opium-scented, dark-tinted |
Now watch me blow him out his shoes without clues |
Cuz I wont hesitate to detonate, Im short fuse |
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Shadowboxin' | 1995 |
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Labels | 1995 |
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