Samurai Showdown (raise Your Swords) Lyrics - Rza

Yo, it's a samurai showdown 

Samurai showdown 

(Aight, A.T.M.) How dare you challenge me? 

You will die from the tip of my sword today 

Huh, the trenches, we must remain calm 

Right, prepare to die 

Yo, it's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Yo, it's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Yo, it's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Yo, it's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Yo, yo 

Hailin' from the slums of Shaolin', golden claw, talon twirl 

And one swirl of the fatal sword splits your Island 

Wu Killa Bees' stingers back on the swarm again 

Bzz, the alarm again, six direction weapon deflectin' 

Bones connect like opposite sides of magnets 

Steel fragments bein' chipped off a slingin' sword slash 

With the force of big crash in your dash board with no airbag 

He drove a ninety-nine Jaguar 

Quick to pick a lock, lick a shot 

Respect the Bloods and Crips a lot 

Plus the God from Ride saggin' in his seat, blastin' Wu beats 

Tryin' to plot his next hit 

He took a drag of the eight elements that composed, atmospheric gas 

'Bout to let off his sword, and full blast 

Kept his mind focused, meditation position half lotus 

Abbot's sword novas couldn't match his magnum opus 

Deluxe stroke, son move like a ghost 

Struck in an instance, unnoticed like a lamp post 

Radar sharp precision gunfire, explode 

Till his clips unload, it's a samurai code 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Time for everyone to go record 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

Time for everybody to go record 

Crept in silent, the steel wind 

Chrome silencers screwed on tight kept the gunshots just sealed in 

We attack, full fledge 

with Chicago Bull red bandanas tied tight around our heads 

Swing with the force of a sledge 

Single-edge stainless steel blade chopped the wedge 

Slit this analog derelicts head 

Who even thought that 

he could go against the truth and the Gods and fall back? 

From the will of Allah, you'll be facin the firing squad 

of a thousand archers out to mark ya 

The bill top scully king blocks bullets like jelly beans 

Birds in my nest restin up, on the telly scene 

Murderous rap track to me, is ego felony 

Can't accept what you analog cats be tellin me 

I get the verbal weapon, won't hesitate for one second 

to break your back like Big Jack from Tekken 

It's born-born, young Lord so raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords 

It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords