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Guillotine (Swordz) Lyrics

"Guillotine (Swordz)" was written by Woods, Corey / Diggs, Robert F..
"Guillotine (Swordz)" was written by Woods, Corey / Diggs, Robert F..

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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 comin'
In my fuckin' face with that shit
Alright cool yeah, go ahead man
Poisonous

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 in S
Ya highness, blessed to electrify

With voltage of an eel, truth that I reveal'll
Rush 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

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-breakin' the album Thriller
Now access the jig who has bombs and rocket launchers
Float like dope killer bees is what I sponsor

Ya entrepreneur, pens and gear like Shakespeare
When I fuck I grab hair, collect drawers as souvenirs
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 hard heads 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

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 makin' 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

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

Songwriters
WOODS, COREY / DIGGS, ROBERT F.

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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