| Yeah, killa, the gza, la |
| Live, yeah, what yo |
| My clan is like usa the way we conquer |
| Lay back, grow more chocolate than willy wonka |
| Stomp ya, till your head bleed, your mouth bleed |
| Runnin wit the heart of slave that’s been freed |
| Triple darkness, wild like a killer from sparfit |
| Heartless, trained to hit movin targets |
| Profit, .357 cocked it |
| Killed you, leave you wit your money in your pocket |
| My logic, money bitches layin the lessons |
| Allah blesses, me wit automatic weapons |
| Scholastic, geographic, stay jurassic |
| Runnin through medina wit the glock blastin |
| Rotten fruit, black je-sus, I got juice |
| Darkman move swift as a mongoose |
| Yo, niggas caught plaque from bitin off the platinum |
| Dumb mc’s caught the gum disease, ask them |
| Who style they took, two wild rooks |
| Tried to take a page when I’m the author of the book |
| At twenty-seven years young, y’all some old timers |
| I write wit invisible ink, y’all use eye liners |
| Define rhymers, the question and the answer |
| The dj and the dancers, check |