Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shadowboxin', artist - GZA/Genius. Album song Liquid Swords, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 06.11.1995
Record label: A Geffen Records Release;
Song language: English
Shadowboxin' |
| Fuck that |
| God damn |
| (The GZA, god damn!) |
| (The GZA, god damn!) Pledge allegiance to the hip-hop! |
| (Method, god damn!) I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop |
| (Maximilli-on, Maximilli-on) |
| (Uh, yeah, ahh, uh) Johnny Blaze |
| I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop |
| (Johnny Blaze) Maximilli-on |
| Maximilli-on |
| Verse One: Method Man/Johnny Blaze |
| 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 |
| Verse Two: The Genius/Maximillion |
| 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 |
| Verse Three: Method Man/Johnny Blaze |
| 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 |
| (Allow me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin) |
| (Sha-shadowboxing, the special technique of shadowboxing) |
| (Shadowboxing) |