Rough Cut-GZA the Genius

Uh, huh, GZA, uh, RZA, uh Listen, if y'all can spit, we can spit, please get it together 'Cuz anything you can do, I can do better Your imagine material looks, hotter behind looks Raise the fear, no one but self, who's shook? Bring the plague like the revelations in the holy book Who's spot you took? Duke off the hook I'm from the land of the crook, life quit the end Better known as the Brook, rather tape then lend There's a lot of wack records, but this ain't one of them DJ's off the books, go 'head put the gun at them All groupie M.C.'s, I'm bout to start stunnin' 'em Don't matter what crew, every last one of 'em It's gettin' crowded in here, some acts got to go Let's start by eliminatin' groups that can't flow I better meal my deal, my career with no fear That none of ya'll group can touch what's over here These rough cut metal tapes Quick to break your label mates, won't hesitate Negotiate your table stakes, you can't flow right Or f**k with me on no night F**k the slow light, you need to get your show right Yo, Justice, how many M.C.'s must get pistol whipped? Crack faces with bottles of Crys', hollow tips gobble lips That's the penalty for poppin' that shit Vanish in a colorless whip, bags of grip Doo-rags and clips, tag the strip You had the chance to advance I'm sorry for the holes in your hip Son, it's the way of the street merchant Live by the laws, die by the rules My gleam play the part of a fool Now hear these jewels from a wise king See what my eyes seen Ten year supreme, the theme We sizzle-line and triple cream My grip'll off that digital bream, visual scene Roll footage on your video screen Globe patrol, Two On The Road, we never fold Snub react, GZA mack eliminate tracks Stimulate phat, Sunzini, nigga, gifted and black Now watch me mack to the kingdom of rap Give me a beat, nigga dealin' battles like a thief Done killed more niggas than Jason in part 3 Stay Wu, on the graveyard and this label Dum dums that battle 12 o'clock, now it's able So what, looked up and made the bitches clap That was because my style's clothes, not the raps Ain't that shit, props for the clothing Should of brought a mirror, 'cuz lyric wasn't rollin' My rhymes is all that and yours ain't shit And at a party, your bitch takin' crazy flicks of me She said I was nigga celebrity But I'm from the slums, with the bums drinkin' Hennesey Take a sip of some Jamaican rum Put fire to my lung, tongue, teeth and gums When it comes out my mouth, shit's hot and it burns Make fools out of bitches like I'm Howard Stern These rough cut metal tapes Quick to break your label mates, won't hesitate Negotiate your table stakes, you can't flow right Or f**k with me on no night F**k the slow light, you need to get your show right