Masta Killa - Duel Of The Iron Mic Lyrics

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pump your fist like this

Pump your fist like this

Just pump your fist like this

Pump your fist like this

Picture bloodbaths elevator

Murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft

Check the print it's where veterans spark the

Slow movin' motherfuckers waitin' for the editin'

The liquid soluble that made up the

A gaseous element that burned down your ministry

Herbal vapors and biblical papers

Smokin' exodus every square yard is plush

Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions facial expressions reasons

Try to keep a shark nigga guessin'

Give crazy shouts son here's the outcome

Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss

Shit is outdated just like neck loads of sterling's

Suede-fronts bell-bottoms and tri-colored shearling's

I ain't particular i bang like vehicular homicides

July 4th in bed-stuy

Money don't grow on trees and there's thievin' mc's

Who cut-throat to rake leaves they can't breathe

Blood splash rushin' fast like runnin' rivers

I be that whiskey in your liver

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Duel of the iron mic

It's the fifty-two fatal strikes

This is not a eighty-five affair made clear

When the gods get on to perform storms brew up

Wu's up causin' the crowd to self-destruct

Killer bees are stingin' some while i reveal

Science that's heavily guarded by the culprit

Bombin' your barracks with aerodynamic

Swordplay poison darts by the doorway

Minds that's laced with explosive doses

Damagin' lyrical launcher

Lunge at the youthful offender then injure any contender

Testin' the murderous master lead to disaster

Dynamite thoughts explode through the barrier

Rips the retina who can withstand the

Astonishing punishing stings to the sternum?

Shocked in the hip-hop livestock

Seekin' for a serum to cure 'em

Adults kill for drugs the young bucks bust

Duckin' 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 1-6-oh

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

Building lobbies are graveyards for small-timers

Bitches caught in airports keys in their vaginas

No peace yo the police mad corrupt

You get bagged up dependin' if you're passin' the cut

Plus shorty's not a shorty no more he's livin' heartless

Regardless of the charges claims to be the hardest

Individual critical thoughts criminal minded

Blinded by illusion findin' it confusin'

Duel of the iron mics

It's that fifty-two fatal strikes

Duel of the iron mics

It's that fifty-two fatal strikes

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