Bloody Samurai

Bloody samurai, my feet will never die

Bloody samurai, my sword will never die

[Crisis:]

Yeah, I'm like daredevils, I dare devils to take it to that level

Make 'em dig they own grave, with they own shovels

Sharpshooter drop helicopters, black out shadows

Cause when it's time to ride, it's like pedal to the metal

Full fledged, beat suicidal, leave holes with skull heads

Hit your cult for your vote, leave 'em all dead

And some, Knights like games, plus handsome

Hoes hold me ransom, you mad and throw tantrums

Seven braids like Samson, strength of Jobe

Since these niggas wanna trip, I make it all unfold

Didn't choose the genie, didn't choose the leprechaun

Niggas better watch the grapes, like they stepping on

Thinking it's a game, I rose him, now your ass is frozen

Nuclear explosion, we straight West Coasting

[Thea Van Seijen:]

I was born as a soldier, and I'll fight in a field

I'll run like a hunter, and I'll die in the field

[Chorus x2]

[Rugged Monk:]

The street apostle with Roscoe's, that'll burn flesh off your fossil

Make you suck on that nozzle, 'fore you swallow these hollows

Clutching a bottle, yeah, I'm a hard act to follow

Nigga, I don't write raps, little homey, I write novels

Every chapter I capture, the mind of millions

When I slang raps like crack, to the women and children

Bring down the building, crime wars, oh what a feeling

Feels good like I'm puffing on that sticky chameleon

The street villain, made most of his money from drug dealing

It's rules to the game, trust nobody that's squealing

Cause snitching is a pet peeve, like a bitch with a bad weave

It's not honor amongst thieves, nigga deal with greed

I'm from a breed of real killas, that's cutthroat

That'll front you to work and kill you if a buck short

Bloodsport, flick you like the butt of my Newport

Or with the butt of my gun, take that, nigga, run

[Dexter Wiggles:]

I come to stop the hollering and screaming, blaow

Stop screaming, make a nigga wish he still dreaming

Since appearing against a ninja, taught him barbarianism

South Central mentalism, like the local news on the local high school

For all this realism, don't let all the whites go there

Cause all the whites'll go there, have 'em all braiding they hair

And having tattoos, and street numbers instead of good grades from school

It's like ridicule, and what would Jesus do?

People standing at apartment, he was beeping with that dizzle

Like a hole ain't enough to end all ridicule

But a ho'll get real holy enough to preach and end you

[Chorus x2]

[Sample:]

If you win, I'll tell you where to find the number two

If I win, I have your head

Do we have a deal?