Iron Flag

Iron Flag

[Intro/Chorus: Raekwon]
  Murder one of y’all niggaz..
  Get to hurtin one of y’all niggaz..
  Bitches, snatch the shirt off one of y’all niggaz
  
  [Raekwon the Chef]
  … kick dirt
  Color glocks splitters just listen there’s UFO visitors
  Fly paintings remainin, reclinin pro-comissioner
  One boot off he Rudolph, know he hyped flew off
  Hibernatin, dead in the makin, ear-rake him, gear-rake him
  Technician murderer, Wu hit the universe
  Our words is crush, fingers icy slush, ringers wants Mercedes bust
  Tip bottles, Movado, sailin in some Wu googles you follow
  Mail and jail letters, sendin niggaz lottos
  What made you murder my flow, what made you rival my clothes
  What made you — fuck it, yo son these niggaz gotta owe
  I think a lot of flows, I flip exotic hoes
  We paintin pictures if it’s (?) I seen a lot of those
  Gettin fly with Ghost, power just buy the boats
  RZA your vision is exquisite, daddy hide your scrolls
  Platonic chronic shows, tonic prose
  Off the meter Panasonic know, son line me a ho
  
  [Masta Killa]
  Devestatin shockwaves strikin the nation
  Newsflash, warn the people, assassination
  The hour of detonation, pure untampered or mixed in any form
  In any form mixed untampered it’s pure
  Dissect each line of the rhyme
  Find my ingredients and nutrients
  Teach patience and obediance before movement
  Killer bee student enrollment
  I’m out your control and expose if it’s synthetic
  Quote these plush degrees as I inject, there’s many at risk
  Slang therapist Shallah Rae
  plus the people, with magnificent wordplay
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Inspectah Deck]
  Aiyyo you know the half, some get respect, most we show the path
  They quoted tracks while we spoke math, blowin fast
  Expose the craft, first picks chosen in the draft
  I don’t flash, hoes love me cause I hold a stash
  Known to blast, paramedics couldn’t close the gash
  Floatin past in an alley with the oak dash
  Show the cash, watch it blow in half, it’s no fair
  They goin mad, check their tape recorders and their notepads
  Crabs wanna play me close and grab
  Can’t believe you on the canvas, I’m just throwin jabs
  Where the powers you supposed to have, hand in your soldier rag
  You posin bad, show your ass son, you won’t last
  With heavy weights that elevate the whole mass
  Compose a smash, rollin grass at Ghost lab
  
  [samples scratched: “drink to your new life.. iron flag brothers”]

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: