Lyrics On the Eve of War - GZA/Genius, Jedi Mind Tricks

On the Eve of War

Yeah… Vinnie Paz, baby
Yeah… yeah… yeah
This is raw, all across the board, Liquid Sword Chamber
If it’s coming from my jaw, then it’s pure anger
Heavy metal rap, with a four four banger
We can settle that, let the mic cord hang ya
I play homage to the best of them, like Christopher Wallace
And bring drama to the rest of 'em, with biscuits from copers
I’m with Allah Justice, and we raw gritty
Picture how, in a dial, to New York City
I brought a four with me, we can capture the ring
And now we more merciless than the Statue of Ming
And ya’ll are more purpose, listen, the pastor is king
You gon' die, like a brawl with a gat in the Bing
It’s a passionate thing, the way we make classics
Genuine brill yitz orinate madness
Yeah, we all spin on the same axis
And this chrome thing here, leave your frame backwards
The police always try’nna aim flame at us
So I don’t mind when the fuckin' brain splatters
I don’t mind, that we all gon' die soon
I return to the silence of God’s tomb
«There's no escapin', once the blade starts scrapin'»
«My sword, indeed, make more niggaz bleed»
«Wannabe MC’s is shakin'»
«So swift, naked eye couldn’t record the speed»
I don’t believe what I’m seeing, I don’t believe it.
Ladies and gentlemen, at this time
We ask you to please rise (you'll never quit
No one will ever get it, there’s no thing quit)
Imagine a rhyme in it’s prime, from off the baselines
Skyscraper verticals, support the hang time
Evidence that was left at the scene of the crime
Trace back to a few, from out a group of nine
Who performed well, regardless to the price of the tickets
Off or on stage, whatever, still kick it
With the footwork, of Freddie Adu, it’s all new
Now the rap commisioners, they wanna clone my shoe
But the road’s narrow, and it’s difficult to climb
With the heat, the wind and the fallen rocks combined
It’s hard to stay in line, the course is an obsticle
Within each chamber, the force is unstoppable
Lyrical swordsman, blades sharp, I cut out your heart
M.C.'s want no part, in any type of conflict
Because then I respond quick, it gets Vick
The problem goes beyond sick
(Wearin' red trunks with silver trim, fightin' outta Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)
This is how we do (His game is tight, and there’s nothing to do)
Pazmanian Devil, Frank Sinatra, Jedi Mind, Wu-Tang
What’s the deal, baby?
GZA/Genius, Stoupe on the track, yeah
My man Soop on the boards
Those who dare oppose us shall stand knee deep in the blood of their children
Is that he who fondles the pleasure of Allah
Like him who has made himself reservin' the displeasure from Allah
And his abode and how, and it is an evil destination…)