Duel Of The Iron Mic

Oh, mad one, we see your trap

You can never escape your fate

Submit with honor to a duel with my son

I agree

I see you're using an old style

I wondered where you'd learned it from

You know very well, it's yours too

Heh, I had forgotten, will you show me?

And what have you come for?

You come here, since you're so interested - fight me

Yo, picture bloodbaths in elevator shafts

Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft

Check the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings

Slow-moving MCs is waiting for the editing

The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry

A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry

Herbal vapors and biblical papers

Smoking Exodus, every square yard is plush

**** the screw-faced photo sessions, facial expression

Leaves impression, try to keep a shark nigga guessing

Give crazy shouts, son, here's the outcome

Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss

Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings

Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored Shearlings

I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides

On July 4th, from Bed-Stuy

Where money don't grow on trees and there's thieving MC's

Who cut-throat to rake leaves

They can't breathe, blood splash, rushing fast

Like running rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver

Duel of the Iron Mic!

It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!

This is not a '85 affair made clear

When the Gods get on to perform storms blew up

Wu's up, causing the crowd to self-destruct

Killer Beez are stinging something while I reveal

Science that's heavily guarded by the culprit

Bombing your barracks with aerodynamic

Swordplay, poison darts by the doorway

Minds that's laced with explosive doses

Damaging lyrical launcher

Lunge at the youthful offender then injure

Any contender, testing the murderous Master

Could lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts

Explode through your barrier, rips the retina

Who can withstand the astonishing punishing

Stings to the sternum, shocked in the Hip Hop livestock

Seeking for a serum to cure 'em

Adults kill for drugs plus the young bucks bust

Ducking handcuffs, throats get cut when dough rush

Out of town foes look shook but still pose

We move like real pros through the streets we stroll

Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six-oh

So control the avenues that's the dream that's sold

Building lobbies are graveyards for small-timers

*****es caught in airports, keys in they ******s

No peace, yo the police mad corrupt

You get bagged up, depending if you're passing the cut

Plus shorty's not a shorty no more, he's living heartless

Regardless of the charges, claims to be the hardest

Individual, critical thoughts, criminal minded

Blinded by illusion, finding it confusing

Duel of the Iron Mic!

It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!

Duel of the Iron Mic!

It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!