Who's The Champion Lyrics - Rza

[: RZA and Ghostface, Raekwon () and somebody 

Word. Man fuck that nigga 

Fuck that crab, ass, bitch [Who the live niggaz youknowhatI'msayin?] 

[You niggaz know how to shoot joints] (Put down the gun son) 

[Elmira, Riker's Island, coming from Brownsville] (Put down the gun son) 

Niggaz tried to front on my little sister (Put down the gun) 

[YouknowhatI'msayin we represent youknowhatI'msayin?] 

[YouknowhatI'msayin? Big Tony Rhome, peace to my man Tony Rhome] 

They tried to, tried to front on this (Put down the gun son) 

[RZA respect youknowhatI'msayin? We keep it real] 

Yeah, check it out why'all (put down the, put down the gun son) 

[Put your guns down, throw your hands up] 

It's on like that why'all word up, Iron Man comes back 

[Represent, you niggaz gotta shoot joints] 

Yo check it 

[Verse One: RZA] 

Put away your heaters, throw up your dick beaters 

Accurate blows to his nose shut his eyes closed to a centimeter 

Bitches on the fences wonderin what the fuck the suspense is 

I land heavy uppercuts in the corner of the park fences 

Knocked his mouthpiece front teeth got locked inside my knuckle 

He grabbed the belt buckle, attempt to catch me with a couple 

of low blows to the nuts, on ringside was as a giant do-els 

Send your Barb for this fuckin jew On a Wire 

He couldn't chessbox that's when he reached for his ahhs 

Brother chopped me on the top of my knot, but he got stopped 

When a twelve ounce bottle of Bartyle and James had him startled 

A bitch threw it caught him in his head, at full throttle 

He fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't saved by the bell 

That was his ass black 

So when it comes to physical combat 

We can take it hand to hand or go beyond that 

Do you want my gat to make the contact? 

Retirin cats who lack the heart to fire back? 

[We take all crabs overboard] 

Chorus: Raekwon 

Put down the gun son, son matter of fact, shoot the one on one 

Hold it down, make sure the head, sure nuff don't hit the ground 

Lampin on the handball courts, or the square, we can take it there 

Settle it son, who the champion? 

[It's like that, niggaz want to front, one more time? 

I'ma show you like this. One on each side 

This is it word up. We gonna lay you back 

We gonna rest your back, you won't know how to act 

When it come to bigger, showin and provin 

Niggaz styles is wack] Who the champion? Settle it son. 

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer 

Yo! 

I had to run up on this King at Devine, for his shines 

He saw the stash and caught my mailbox for eighty dimes 

He saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for mega fiends 

I held it down like the finger fly miraculous King 

Peep through the heavy small get the camoflouge 

Starks master in charge, pushin through ery buildin, sippin egg nog 

Niggaz know my status God body carry big batters 

Fiends know me for my blue bags, besides smackin crabs 

and earnin mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back bent 

What the hell just made him fuck with my intelligent? 

Back to Polly and I heard some noise we pack a two twelve 

There go Lord Shamel, faggot made a sale 

He's sellin my shit, I should slap fire out his ass 

Snap his bones in half and watch the stock market crash 

I walked up on him, he had the nerve to say Peace God 

Ain't nuttin Peace God, you stole it now we out in the streets 

Take your shit off, nigga you soft, back up off 

Youse a shady nigga, I'm a sever fig you with a gloss 

I snuffed him, threw a crazy left and I cuffed him 

Allah don't like ugly so I held back from bustin him 

I passed the burn off, he caught me from the blind side 

Tapped a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and crazy raw 

I had my ice on, tapped a few times, he started leakin 

De King with the deadarm, Shamel fell to his knees and 

He started wheezin, losin his breath from smokin trees and 

I'm still breathin, bleedin because it's frontin season 

Now I got that project belt, international/national 

Worldwide, I let Shamel slide 

Chorus