Guillotinz (Swordz) lyrics

Artist  : Raekwon 
Song : Guillotinz (Swordz)
 


Intro: Inspectah Deck

Allow me to
demonstrate the skill of Shaolin
The special
technique of shadowboxing

Poisonous,
poisonous (word word word)
I should slap all
y'all niggaz for coming in my fuckin face with
that shit
Alright cool yeah, go ahead
man...
Poisonous

Verse One: Inspectah
Deck a.k.a. Rebel INS

Poisonous
paragraphs, smash ya phonograph
in half, it be
the Inspectah Deck on the warpath
First class
leavin mics with a cast
Causin ruckus like the
aftermath when guns blast
Run fast, here comes
the verbal assaulta
Rhymes runnin wild like a
child in a walker
I scored from the inner
slums abroad
And my thoughts are razor sharp I
sliced the mic from the cord
First they
criticize, but now they have become
mentally
paralyzed with hits that I devise
Now I
testify, the rest is I, Rebel INS
Ya highness,
blessed to electrify
with voltage of an eel,
truth that I reveal'll
crush the amateurs who
screamed to keep it real
Caesar black down
hoodied up and fatigues
Part time minor
leagues receive third degrees
Attack like a
wolf pack, once I pull back
then guard you,
and bust through like a fullback

Verse
Two: Ghostface Killer a.k.a. Tony
Starks

Yo, you fourteen carat gold slum
computer wizard
Tappin inside my rap vein
causes blizzards
Do I like the kills for ice
trife like botta digits
Gorillas injected with
strength of eighty midgets
The Earth spins
ruins, rap exotic blends
Let my peeps in,
niggaz gaspin swallowin aspirins
What a
dosage, you overdosed in rap
High explosives
my post-its hypnotize with hypnosis
I sell
goods, my whole Clan is on the run like Natural
Born Killers
Record-breaking the album
Thriller
Now access the jig who has bombs and
rocket launchers
Float like dope killer bees
is what I sponsor
Ya entrepeneur, pens and
gear like shakespeare
When I fuck I grab hair,
collect drawers as souveneirs
Fuck yeah, my
crew down German beers
My career is based on
guns, throwin cats in wheelchairs
Etcetera,
damage any lame ass competitor
Who try to
front, get broken and passed like
leathers
Whatever hot hardheads get shattered
like mirrors
Beretta shots splatter your
goose, scatter ya feathers
Say never poetry
chumps crumbs deal with graphic
Blew my family
overseas in mansions
If rap was crack, fully
packed I be tour cats
Tax the kingpin of the
rap drug traffickin
Village niggaz get slapped
in Manhattan
for rappin, big Ghost steps off
laffin

(Were you just using the Wu-Tang
school method against me?
I've learned so many
styles, forgive me)

Verse Three: Raekwon
the Chef a.k.a. Lou Diamonds

Sit back
relax, fake niggaz don't get turns
Watch me
massage ya brain with slang that's
king
Projects filled with young men cause
threats
Who is that? Thousand dollar chains
and techs
Focus, the brokest niggaz of life
shit
These mics is like cocaine Sun, check the
suicidal hype shit
Exchange mad blunts taste
the sweepstakes
Keepin up on fakes outta state
for cakes
No doubt, plus nobody amount, we
making dough off of
Puttin fifty on the Land
and Allah, it's like that
Pull ya shoes up
black, matta of fact just adapt
Tie up, ya
black Nike's and tight hats
Corners, stay
surrounded with foreigners
Whattup dread? Feds
caught you grudgin for his bread
But
regardless, peace to jail niggaz with
charges
Unify layin in the guard with La
My
Clan done ran from Japan to Atlanta, with
stamina
Clingers and gamblers, and gram
handlers
Tical like the Isle, so God, let's
get steamed
Infrared guard yo' Beem, so seek
nuff respect
Rude bwoy you bet, keep it movin
par shallah
Pro black like tar
Designin the
fly shit and stay shinin and
the RZA pours more
beats than Cristal's fine wine
Concrete raps go
to black
with 50 other niggaz on the other side
of the map
Knew it's all good and all done
what, we want some
Mike Tyson of this rap
shit, pullin out Macs for fun

Verse Four:
The Genius/GZA a.k.a. Maximillion

The
nigga don't get mad, I got mad styles of my
own
And it's shown when my hands grip the
chrome microphone
Verbally I catch bodies with
cordless shotties
Intriguin emcees, I keep em
trained like potties
I bomb facts, my sword is
an axe
to split backs invisible, like dope
fiend tracks
Sky's the limit, niggaz are
timid, and nobody knows
How we move like wolfs
in sheep clothes
Producin data, microchips or
software
Undaground and off air, the Land of
the Lost
Notorious henchman from the
North
Strikin niggaz where the Mason-Dixon
line crossed