调：F minor•
Verse 1
with the Jizzle
Goddamn, Church Pledge
Allegiance of the Hip Hop
Goddamn, the Hip Hop
Goddamn, I pledge allegiance to the Hip Hop
I breaks it down to the bone
gristle
Hillspeaking, scud missile, heat -seeking Johnny Blazin',
nightmares like Wes Craven
Niggas gunnin',
my third eye seen it comin'
Before it happened,
you know about them fuckin' statin'
Kids, they smashin', everything, huh
In any shape, form, or fashion
Now everybody talkin'
about they blastin'
Hmm, is you bustin' still
or is you flashin'?
Hmm, talkin' out your asshole
You shoulda learned about the
flow in P .Z. Afro
To Cali and Stallion,
chinky eye and snot nose
From my naps to the bunion on my big toe
I keeps it movin',
know just what the fuck I'm doin'
Rappin' Soniac,
been to catch a nigga snoozin'
Slip the cardiac, arrest me,
exorcist hip -hop, possess me
Crunch a nigga like a Nestle,
you know my steam
Burnin' to a third degree,
sneaky ass alley cat
Top pedigree, the head toucher,
industry party bum rusher
You don't like it, dick up in
Yo, I slayed them
C's back in the Rack Room era
My style wrote motherfuckin'
backs
like Hempeterra
Most rap niggas came loud with unheard
Once I pulled out,
ground them off to the
nearest third
Check these non -visual niggas
with tapes and a portrait
Flood the seminar,
tryna orbit this corporate
Industry,
unexpectedly
While niggas write immediately if not soon
Set the lynching,
and form the execution date
As this 2000 beyond slain suffocate
Amplify sample through vacuum
tubes
Compressions cause RZA to charge niggas
20 Gs a session
When my mind starts to click
And the strategy is master the plot thicken
This be that bullshit
I don't give a cotton picket,
fuck about a brother trying to size a nigga up
I hold my own, hard hat protect the dome
Look at momma baby boy
acting like he grown
No time for sleep, I get deep as a baritone
Killer B that be holding down
his honeycomb
Lounging son,
rude brother number one
Protect your neck, flying guillotines,
here they come
Bloody bastards,
hard times and killer tactics
Spitting words,
plug semi -automatic slurps
Peep the graphic,
novel from the genie bottom
Hit the clutch, shift the gear now,
full throttle, time to bungee
To the next episode, I keeps it grungy
Hand on my nut sack, and spittin' lungs
Had a whack nigga that,
don't understand the fact
When they come to rid the tracks,
I don't know how to act
Real rap from the stack, killer hill projects
Hard to be exact, break it down,
all in together now
Things are gettin' good,
Oh man. Oh man.
Oh man.
Oh man.
Oh man. Oh man. Oh
Allow me to demonstrate the
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