7 Pounds Lyrics - Pro Tools - Gza

Speakin' of this art form, the slang is dangerous 

MC's are like sperm cells, a gang of us 

Fightin' to reach the egg, bikin' and lose a leg 

Odds are like one to ten million, the kin thread 

One from a thousand speaks in his own voice 

The other nine ninety nine, imitates without choice 

They never even knowin' it, until the goin' gets rough 

See the amplified sample I'm throwin' with 

I grab the microphone, the unthinkable happens 

See the rockets red glare like the guns when clappin' 

They still cage matchin' MC's that's scrappin' 

Not the UFC, but my opponent is tappin' 

So don't let a little bit of fear turn to hatred 

I was sent as a savior to revive what was sacred 

Also stop this uncalled for behavior 

And sippin' back cats, they lactase in flavor 

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Got word from the wise to let it drop 

Set this on fire, take aim and let it pop 

Because regardless to whom or what, even with door shut 

I'm givin' 'em straight raw, you bringin' them all cut 

Like Bolivian rock, your watered down hip hop 

Rap's so out of shape and far from tip top 

Pearls next to pebbles, spoons against shovels 

Dictators next to rebels and Gods against devils 

No time for backwards thinkin', let's think ahead 

If you wanna sleep when you awake then make your bed 

A lotta MC's came to see me on referrals 

Not even knowin' that they would undergo great parrels 

These cuttin' edge methods from the most specialized 

Faster than the last men, and before the dust'll fly 

The lord of the art, strikes a chord in your heart 

Your ear love to hear the God, rippin' tracks apart 

Photos 

Me to hip hop is like Einstein to science 

A match made in heaven, most likely an alliance 

Complex individual that you dream of being 

Intellectual challengin', the all eye seein' 

Got a appetite for heat 

So then come and bite the beat 

And digest the rest and don't 

Stress the part, it couldn't be 

Got word from the wise to let it drop 

Set this on fire, take aim and let it pop 

Because regardless to whom or what, even with door shut 

I'm givin' 'em straight raw, you bringin' them all cut 

Like Bolivian rock, your watered down hip hop 

Rap's so out of shape and far from tip top 

Pearls next to pebbles, spoons against shovels 

Dictators next to rebels, and Gods against devils