| 作词 : Diggs, Smith, Woods | |
| Duel, worthy of a general | |
| If you want to fight, fight with me! | |
| One to one! | |
| Man to man! | |
| Get ready to gel team! | |
| Live and direct from the one-six-ooh | |
| We got Tical, pow! | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef, Tical! | |
| It's about to go on, | |
| Tical!You make the call, | |
| I make the call! | |
| It's all for all | |
| Method Man, | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef(Count my shells) | |
| And there's about to be one left(Count my shells, nigga) | |
| I know you know it's on kid(Bring that shit I don't give a ****!) | |
| Who lit that shit it was | |
| I the chinky-eye | |
| Cheeba-hawk from | |
| New York, | |
| Tical Staten | |
| IsleNiggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught | |
| A bad situation, cause | |
| I'm a sandwich short | |
| Of a picnic, 'cause you ain't equipped with the sickening | |
| Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic | |
| Missiles, | |
| I be comin' through like the four-nine-three-eleven | |
| Tearing up the power you, me, | |
| TicalA bad mother****ing | |
| Buddha monk, what the **** | |
| Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front | |
| Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain | |
| Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments | |
| A rugged vet, terrible like a champion sweat | |
| Wrap a power in a tec, to wet | |
| A nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases | |
| Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever | |
| ****er, I think it's bout time that you suffer | |
| Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker | |
| Bitch!Meth versus | |
| Chef(It's my turn) | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef(Yo let's bring that shit baby) | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef(Yo, yeah, one more time nigga) | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef(Callin' me out, it's goin' off) | |
| I blow your ****in' ass to death | |
| I'm goin' all out kid no turnbacks | |
| You could try to front, get smoked and that's that | |
| Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin' | |
| Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then | |
| I go to war in a concrete jungle, make the punt' | |
| Cause niggaz act funny, and fumble | |
| But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly | |
| Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die | |
| Time for jet-black | |
| Tim boot, flowin' | |
| Wha-Su God get him, hit 'em with the nine troop | |
| No question, cha-cha-blow in the session | |
| Bloodshot in that direction, cypher' | |
| Tack you like chess moves best move | |
| Yo, yeah, yo | |
| The boards, your ass' | |
| Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uh!' | |
| Tack the boards like chess moves best move | |
| At Rae through, comin' at your mother****in' crew | |
| Live direct, yeah you better step | |
| Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet | |
| Motivate, to the gate | |
| With some quick high | |
| Rae stay fly, and rob your line | |
| Airwaves, yo behave | |
| Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way | |
| Ahh shit!Chef verses | |
| Meth verses | |
| Meth |
| zuo ci : Diggs, Smith, Woods | |
| Duel, worthy of a general | |
| If you want to fight, fight with me! | |
| One to one! | |
| Man to man! | |
| Get ready to gel team! | |
| Live and direct from the onesixooh | |
| We got Tical, pow! | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef, Tical! | |
| It' s about to go on, | |
| Tical! You make the call, | |
| I make the call! | |
| It' s all for all | |
| Method Man, | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef Count my shells | |
| And there' s about to be one left Count my shells, nigga | |
| I know you know it' s on kid Bring that shit I don' t give a ! | |
| Who lit that shit it was | |
| I the chinkyeye | |
| Cheebahawk from | |
| New York, | |
| Tical Staten | |
| IsleNiggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught | |
| A bad situation, cause | |
| I' m a sandwich short | |
| Of a picnic, ' cause you ain' t equipped with the sickening | |
| Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic | |
| Missiles, | |
| I be comin' through like the fourninethreeeleven | |
| Tearing up the power you, me, | |
| TicalA bad mother ing | |
| Buddha monk, what the | |
| Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front | |
| Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain | |
| Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments | |
| A rugged vet, terrible like a champion sweat | |
| Wrap a power in a tec, to wet | |
| A nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases | |
| Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever | |
| er, I think it' s bout time that you suffer | |
| Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker | |
| Bitch! Meth versus | |
| Chef It' s my turn | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Yo let' s bring that shit baby | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Yo, yeah, one more time nigga | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Callin' me out, it' s goin' off | |
| I blow your in' ass to death | |
| I' m goin' all out kid no turnbacks | |
| You could try to front, get smoked and that' s that | |
| Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin' | |
| Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then | |
| I go to war in a concrete jungle, make the punt' | |
| Cause niggaz act funny, and fumble | |
| But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly | |
| Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die | |
| Time for jetblack | |
| Tim boot, flowin' | |
| WhaSu God get him, hit ' em with the nine troop | |
| No question, chachablow in the session | |
| Bloodshot in that direction, cypher' | |
| Tack you like chess moves best move | |
| Yo, yeah, yo | |
| The boards, your ass' | |
| Tack, ' tack, ' tack, uh!' | |
| Tack the boards like chess moves best move | |
| At Rae through, comin' at your mother in' crew | |
| Live direct, yeah you better step | |
| Gunshots ring on the set, let' s jet | |
| Motivate, to the gate | |
| With some quick high | |
| Rae stay fly, and rob your line | |
| Airwaves, yo behave | |
| Now you' re a slave with the boots that paved the way | |
| Ahh shit! Chef verses | |
| Meth verses | |
| Meth |
| zuò cí : Diggs, Smith, Woods | |
| Duel, worthy of a general | |
| If you want to fight, fight with me! | |
| One to one! | |
| Man to man! | |
| Get ready to gel team! | |
| Live and direct from the onesixooh | |
| We got Tical, pow! | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef, Tical! | |
| It' s about to go on, | |
| Tical! You make the call, | |
| I make the call! | |
| It' s all for all | |
| Method Man, | |
| Raekwon the | |
| Chef Count my shells | |
| And there' s about to be one left Count my shells, nigga | |
| I know you know it' s on kid Bring that shit I don' t give a ! | |
| Who lit that shit it was | |
| I the chinkyeye | |
| Cheebahawk from | |
| New York, | |
| Tical Staten | |
| IsleNiggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught | |
| A bad situation, cause | |
| I' m a sandwich short | |
| Of a picnic, ' cause you ain' t equipped with the sickening | |
| Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic | |
| Missiles, | |
| I be comin' through like the fourninethreeeleven | |
| Tearing up the power you, me, | |
| TicalA bad mother ing | |
| Buddha monk, what the | |
| Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front | |
| Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain | |
| Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments | |
| A rugged vet, terrible like a champion sweat | |
| Wrap a power in a tec, to wet | |
| A nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases | |
| Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever | |
| er, I think it' s bout time that you suffer | |
| Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker | |
| Bitch! Meth versus | |
| Chef It' s my turn | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Yo let' s bring that shit baby | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Yo, yeah, one more time nigga | |
| Meth versus | |
| Chef Callin' me out, it' s goin' off | |
| I blow your in' ass to death | |
| I' m goin' all out kid no turnbacks | |
| You could try to front, get smoked and that' s that | |
| Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin' | |
| Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then | |
| I go to war in a concrete jungle, make the punt' | |
| Cause niggaz act funny, and fumble | |
| But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly | |
| Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die | |
| Time for jetblack | |
| Tim boot, flowin' | |
| WhaSu God get him, hit ' em with the nine troop | |
| No question, chachablow in the session | |
| Bloodshot in that direction, cypher' | |
| Tack you like chess moves best move | |
| Yo, yeah, yo | |
| The boards, your ass' | |
| Tack, ' tack, ' tack, uh!' | |
| Tack the boards like chess moves best move | |
| At Rae through, comin' at your mother in' crew | |
| Live direct, yeah you better step | |
| Gunshots ring on the set, let' s jet | |
| Motivate, to the gate | |
| With some quick high | |
| Rae stay fly, and rob your line | |
| Airwaves, yo behave | |
| Now you' re a slave with the boots that paved the way | |
| Ahh shit! Chef verses | |
| Meth verses | |
| Meth |
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