| When I was little, my father was famous
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| He was the greatest samurai in the empire
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| And he was the Shogun’s decapitator
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| He cut off the heads of 131 lords
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| It was a bad time for the empire
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| The Shogun just stayed inside his castle and he never came out
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| People said his brain was infected by devils
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| My father would come home, he would forget about the killings
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| He wasn’t scared of the Shogun, but the Shogun was scared of him
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| Maybe that was the problem
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| Then, one night, the Shogun sent his ninja spies to our house
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| They were supposed to kill my father but they didn’t
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| That was the night everything changed
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| See, sometimes
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| You gotta flash 'em back
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| See, niggas don’t know where this shit started
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| Y’all know where it came from
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| I’m sayin', we gonna take y’all back to the source
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| Do the knowledge, yo
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| When the MCs came to live out the name
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| And to perform, some had
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| To snort cocaine, to act insane
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| Before Pete Rocked it on
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| Now on with the mental plane, to spark the brain
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| With the building to be born
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| Yo, RZA, flip the track with the what to cut
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| Fake niggas get flipped in mic fights
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| I swing swords and cut clowns
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| Shit is too swift to bite, you record and write it down
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| I flow like the blood on a murder scene
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| Like a syringe, on some wild out shit to insert a fiend
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| But it was your op. |
| to shop stolen art
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| Catch a swollen heart from not rollin' smart
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| I put mad pressure on phony wack rhymes that get hurt
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| Shit’s played like zodiac signs on sweatshirts
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| That’s minimum and feminine like sandals
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| My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
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| Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
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| With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
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| That attack, the mic-phones like cyclones or typhoon
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| I represent from midnight to high noon
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| I don’t waste ink, nigga, I think
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| I drop megaton bombs more faster than you blink
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| 'Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
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| Through clouds of smoke of natural blends of weed
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| Only under one circumstance, that’s if I’m blunted
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| Turn that shit up, my Clan in Da Front want it
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| Now, when the MCs came to live out the name
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| And to perform, some had
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| To snort cocaine, to act insane
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| Before Pete Rocked it on
|
| Now on with the mental plane to spark the brain
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| With the building to be born
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| Yo, the RZA flip the track with the what to cut
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| I’m on a Mission that niggas say is Impossible
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| But when I swing my swords, they all choppable
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| I be the body dropper, the heartbeat stopper
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| Child educator, plus head amputator
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| 'Cause niggas' styles are old like Mark 5 sneakers
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| Lyrics are weak like clock radio speakers
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| Don’t even stop in my station and attack
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| While your plan failed, get derailed like Amtrak
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| What the fuck for? |
| Down by law, I make law
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| I be justice, I sentence that ass two to four
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| 'Round the clock, that state pen time, check it
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| But the pens I be stickin' with, you can’t state the crime
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| Came through with the Wu, slid off on the DL
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| I’m low-key like seashells, I rock these bells
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| Now come aboard, it’s Medina bound
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| Enter the chamber, and it’s a whole different sound
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| It’s a wide entrance, small exit like a funnel
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| So deep, it’s picked up on radios in tunnels
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| Niggas are fascinated how the shit begin
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| Get vaccinated, my logo is branded in your skin
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| When the MCs came to live out the name
|
| And to perform, some had
|
| To snort cocaine, to act insane
|
| Before Pete Rocked it on
|
| Now on with the mental plane, to spark the brain
|
| With the building to be born
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| Yo, RZA flip the track with the what to cut |