| Gunsmoke
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| From the sound killa barrel
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| Musical gunsmoke
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| From the sound killa barrel
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| As they ride into the frontline of the battle
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| Incoming spears and arrows shot to drop you from your saddle
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| Black out the sun and all you hear is shields rattle
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| Still charging forward and feel the stampede trample
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| (Any)one and anywhere that dares to oppose the sound killa reign
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| Music is thy sword and I shall see the wicked slain
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| Cutting deep to their hearts, deep to their veins
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| Legacy is blood and their legacy will drain
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| All I see is dragons spitting fire
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| Can’t shake up the sons of the one lion
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| All I see is dragons spitting fire
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| Can’t shake up the sounds of the sound killa
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| Tell them ease off, lyrical rounds wah me squeeze off
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| Beat it till it bend and then me go breeze off
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| Keep hear them a ball out cree now (why)
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| Too much ammo deh under me sleeve now
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| Them youth up and down like say dem a see-saw
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| Wonder why them a pree so? |
| (me nuh know)
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| My birthright mi see them a scheme for
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| Claim like say dem a Jacob when dem a Esau
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| Could why make nobody feel so (you nuh know)
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| Watch them a grab and a reach though, look me a bob and a weave now
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| Tun it up couple degrees though
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| Dem man ya deh pon a level weh even a
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| Pebble a come from me hand ago shell you
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| It bebble and sharp, we nuh take long talk
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| Who doing this quite like we, out of Jamaica, put fire pon beast
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| Well it might just be with the tribal seeds
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| Make them hide and flee when we point and squeeze
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| So I and I a bust down the gates of Babylon yard
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| Word, sound coming dreadful onto the weak heart
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| Fire to rain and to restitute pon the land
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| And a riddance of the menacing cowards
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| I a hail the ancient of days, Selassie I emperor
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| Piercing hearts of the wicked with word, sound, and power
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| Obsidian if I kill a white walker
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| Armageddon to restore balance
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| Cuz all I see is dragons spitting fire
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| Can’t shake up the sons of the one lion
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| All I see is dragons spitting fire
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| Can’t shake up the sounds of the sound killa |