Take the Sword, Pt. III

60 Second Assassin, Bobby Digital, Christ Bearer, Crisis, Kinetic, Leggezin, Reverend William Burk, Rugged Monk, RZA & Tre Irie

Popularity · Low

🇬🇧 English · Original

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Lyrics

Take the sword The sword? Come on, give him the sword You will take Here come the enemy And what stance are we to take? For sure the line of Judas stands in the way Be ready for the voices to call out the utter Beware of the sword I'll oppose upon a threat with the mighty Gigantor I'm rippin' this shit to pieces like Skeletor The editor, senator of all rap competitors Get this job done on the mic quicker than Financial power, I attack with the sun shower Get a next president to taste the God's power Raining for forty days, burning for forty nights Meteorologists don't even pick up from the satellite Coming up catastrophe, death of another MC Killed by the legendary G-O-D, as in me Now rest in peace, six feet beneath Unconsciously, periodically to wake up and be somebody I swam the shores and cause the laws and now I recall The rise and fall, but now see I walk tall Never needed a slugger, my rap is like the mugger And I rough up the tough up, I leave the shit left for supper Hush up, you're busted, you can't be trusted Give me a break, I'll dig Fooling the public, on with the subject 'Cause I'm tired of hearing this rubbish Now get your stinking breath off of my Puto, o tempo tá a passar Não sejas burro, é melhor aproveitar Neste mundo quem não bomba não tem futuro Puto, o tempo tá a passar Não sejas burro, é melhor aproveitar We had thirty years of war Life hardcore, bullets soar through the sky A lot of soldiers die, you can never be denied When war's your only option before you're closing up Guarantee you'll be popping Ninety-nine percent motherfuckers straight dropping Little kids coughing AKs, SK with the magazine They say real legacy, now yo, that's what I mean People pray for the day of good well-being Bang, bang, you're just cheese if you step and clean And the means getting low so it's by any means Got the fake shit, counterfeit, try to make a profit Steal a Kwanza for the rise of the market So many people starving, dying for nothing I bring a little something, keep the streets pumping Love forever Take the sword The sword? Come on, give him the sword You will take Who serving us? The Knights is superb with this We lyrical murderers Your nervousness got you shaking like turbulence The game need nourishment so we came to nourish it Give you lames encouragement, diss the name and perish quick Black Knights, we far from good Samaritans Keep the crowd rocking, you keep 'em nodding like heroin In the veins of an addict, disrespect brains'll get splatted Restraint from being subtracted, inflicting pain is a habit Killer Cali mentality, rob and sell drugs for a salary Niggas can't handle me, brain static like channel three On the M-I-C or in the streets leave you like canopy You got served by my first verse for living in a fantasy Yes sir, like my nigga Pharrell, for real Niggas get killed, Black Knights, we destroy the build Yeah, I make it all seem so simple Rock the mic with my quintessential fundamental Killing 'em off, Christ Bearer the boss The young Rick Ross on the freeway, yeah I see the rats run the relay Yeah, the judge, the jury, the prosecutor, D.A Yeah, Christ Bearer, he say That he's an OG when he flex it like it's supposed to be The, the freestyle champ, keep it in The, nobody in the camp gets served when I swerve Christ Bearer the king, I bring the fire, the rain And touch 'em insane, so psycho, yeah I'm in the PJs in the projects, I go insane Monks spit fact, not fiction My written is too forbidden to be touched or even bitten You wack niggas submitting Spit darts rapid, so accurate Pierce right through your hollow bones Rapping clones couldn't see me on the microphones Pen and pad, line for line, bar for bar You take your choice, your courage is flattering But you knew you couldn't come close to the rugged M-O-N-K Vivid lyrical wordplay Display a chamber of rhymes you couldn't match on your best day I leave that ass wet like a dolphin laid in a coffin Compton's where I come from and shit happens often What you know about a nigga dying for natural causes? He got hit in his neck, now that's natural for flossing Even my girl say I'm stuck in my ways Ever since back in the days Been thugging, dumping with K's And I'm still at it, still slanging work to them crack addicts Still active, still quick to keep the beef cracking My dosage of murder is a movie Three thousand miles to Graceland, a lot of gun clapping, man Chicks say Dre Street the last thing as special as man I represent a crime family nominated for Grammys Book one-two up in the casino, chips like bingo Pricerino, my team source like Benzino We supreme, we got clientele More killers in jail, we so dangerous we don't get bail Judge wanna let me rot in cell I gotta escape like Alcatraz I be on the run like old dirtbags With a suitcase full of cash Four-two, so don't stash Silver robotic, fucked up if you coward Bullets flying through the air like spirals On a football, like it was thrown by Brett Favre Take the sword Yeah, yo You should pray that I climb the ladder Instead of waving the wand, having the abracadabra He is no longer with us, I couldn't be any gladder Like a kid on Christmas who couldn't be any badder Got everything that I asked for Clue in the six shooter, gloves with the hat and mask And you was giving it up so no reason to ask And we be living it up, future, present and past A bit of pimp on my strut, nigga like I got class Wine in the wine glass, my bitch with a fine ass And a friend too, the evil that men do Just 'cause I got cash, well I figure I take two Or maybe three of those, how we treat them hoes Take the sword The sword? Come on, give him the sword Take your plan back to the drawing board, sharpen your sword Give your soul back to the church, son, give it back to the Lord Take your plan back to the drawing board, sharpen your sword Give your soul back to the church, give it back to the Lord You playing with them rooks Knights, bishops, kings, queens, bishops, knights, rooks Knowledge equal pawns, front lines, jagged hooks Gold shields, illest crooks for the boldest jooks We eating soul food, cook good, devils is shook It took for one to see the board without the pieces on it It take for one to grab the cross as if it's Jesus on it It take for one to see the pulpit with the preachers on it It take for one to hear the system with no speakers on it And still know that it's all there with the features on it Like them Cadillacs with woofers and them tweeters on it We in stadiums, the floors and the bleachers want it In high school I even had my women teachers on it We keep diamonds in small packets like sunflower seeds With my Glock in the cold, it throws the gunpowder sneeze I chew blow a fever at you non-believers I bet your quarterback won't intercept the receiver Of this hundred meter bullet, trigger pulled back when I pull it A quarter inch, I clear the whole bench I clear the whole field and the building Your boy Bobby still been Trapped in the projects playing spades with the pilgrims Now I'm back on O.R. in your car Glock goes pop, pop Now it's back to the Alamo Take the sword The sword? Come on, give him the sword