King Just: Round em up

[Intro] Yo man, yo, I don't know man Yo this rock thing got me buggin yo Word, I be buggin out and shit Yo, yo [King Just] Baby are you ready? On the zone high Oh why, must these bastards try To test, my buddha cess, mine I remind The Fist knew the time, and I came wit the rhyme Fly, on top of the world I came to kick this shit for the boys and the girls Twirl, into the wind of Shaolin Begin where you want, and end where you in Come on, send, a message to you crew and your troops That my Soldiers stomp like Timberland boots Fruit, roll up, yo hold up, lucky Make your the 'cal is tight, packed in tuckly I might be, comin at a project near you Wit the Zoo and the Two, and the whole shaboo Shebang, it's the God doin his thing And it ain't no thang, but a chicken wing The King, sits on the throne wit a bone And I'm known, from makin a fuck wit microphone In the zone on my own, always singin alone And I'd be damn, if I take a fuckin ugly bitch home Roam through the ancient tomb of doom A metamorphosis, that becomes a cocoon [Chorus] Round 'em up, move 'em up, lay 'em down (flat) Shootin M.C.'s wit my lyrical (gat) Never had to front cuz the Mob got my (back) Like that (like that) like that, like that [King Just] Yo, I'm back, to set shit straight Aiyo, waitin from the King You never make it past the castle gates Norman Bates is my fate, but I gotta escape I fuckin hate the plate, but I know I gotta date Escape to the next cut, and blow up, grow up Ah, rhymes that'll fuckin rot To your ear, my style is sharp just like a spear I see fear, whenever the God presence is near Clear, the way, cuz I slay Everyday in May, and niggas don't come around my way You better head for the door Cuz I get raw, plus I'm Shaolin stompin through ya floor I want more, pounds and sounds, I'm gettin down Lick 'em down, I represent place, home and sound Peep my style, I'm back wit the high pro-lo Another flow, another sound boy over the rainbow Aiyo, can I get a fat one? I'm back son Dead men tell no tales, will be the outcome The wild hon', hit ya so hard To make a buck reign rock it to Meth And blow the fuck up [Chorus] [King Just] It's the return of the bad h-h-holes No one knows where I get my strange flow You're slow, it's the Mystics of the God The Sex, Money, the Cess, and the Blas'e Blah No sellout, no doubt, cuz I'mma represent Cuz Wayne's World, I'm excellent Bah humbug, he'll catch a slug from the slug (blaow!) Black Fist make the way while the Shaolin show love Oh lord, that means it's my turn to rock Hemp pump cock, as I'm smokin up the block Nonstop, I got skills to go on and on From dust to dawn, from night to morn' Word is bond, you're corn, will get eaten Just like a Terrier, I ain't scared of ya Yo what's on in the area [Chorus 2X] [Outro] Harvard tactics from the Black Fist