Lyrics Dart Tournament - Blue Raspberry , Cilvaringz

Ladies and gentlemen
Live from the universal grains of Shaolin
The Wu-Tang Killa Bee Dart Tournament
Featuring Cilvaringz and Killa Sin

Remember Brasshead? He put the copper in charge
And blew the whistle on that fake shit like Anthony Starks
I come, smashing cats in the head with a boom
He flashing at me, them faggots, and nope, I Dutch Schultz
Cutting balls off, brashing and brew, my big dreams
Niggas except they not all ameant to get ahead of theyselves
Kareem, lock it down for the brothers of Islam
Bitch, calm down, I'm swinging these big bombs
King Kong bullets I ping pong, I'm hovering
Shook ones they ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-just stuttering
Wu-Tang backing me, can't go wrong
I'mma, family man, fuck a solo song
You a, homo thug, we them Boss Hog killas
All that lame shit you spit, silent raw's killer
Bitch, me and Killa Sin, we killing the gift
Could lock down on you suckas of love just like a G-Roc
Aiyo, Killa, man, show 'em what we talking about

Killa's loco, vocals hold you hostage
Gothic, size out live shit, catch a wise quick, focus
We stone fist explosive, load 'em like fo'-fifths
To roast clicks, ferocious as Ro bitch, with no cinch
My thoughts so dense they form mist
I swarm quicker than norm, Bee stingers stay dipped in corn liquor
Warn niggaz from the last time, past time hobby be
Robbin niggaz in they lobby, G, come out ya Wallabees
Fifty-six penny-weight chain limit the policy
Modernize crime comodity, now let me get mine
I bang with the shadiest kind, crazy three-eighties
And baby nines, sip the crime, pay me mine every time
Heavy shine, fuck a nine, to half a dime
Nigga grab a mastermind rhyme, before I have to blast my nine
So I keep it on the low key, like P. Bobby O.G.
Johnson, the monster that'll conquer your sponsor, uh

It's the invincible, indestructable
Amazing, undisputed, from the grains of Shaolin
Wu-Tang Killa Bees

Wu-Tang, we done it again
Wu-Tang, Cilvaringz and Killa Sin
They ain't ready for this, nah, ain't ready for this
Blue Ras, back on the scene, killing shit
You can't handle it, the wannabees out there
Trying to bite our shit, no, no, no, no...
They can't even come close, we're the best from coast to coast
The Clan is too thick and we international...
International... ohhhhhhh

Low down grimey style
Wu-Tang, from the universal grains of Shaolin