RZA: The whist

[Intro: RZA]*whistling**beat kicks in*Di-Di-Di-Di-Di-Digital[RZA]Yo, I beat the case, now I face the acquittalYou nizzles try to belittle, but ya'll lest in spittleFrom a baby's lip, the digi made me flipPlus they paid me chips, just to spray the clipAnd empty out on you, in sync like the SMPTE output on the MPC 2002We be housin' crews, plus we housin' foolsIn abandoned apartments with a thousand toolsCrazy shootin' dudes buck off the beatBrainless boutless fools who be stuck off the leafTwo guns in their hands yellin' "Fuck the police!"On the weekend get drunk and they fuck with the nieceOf the precint chief, she got the tattooOn her breast that's shaped like The WGo 'head snatch the guns, son, I'll cover youAnd if they get past me we got another two, yeah...[Chorus: RZA & Prodigal Sunn]We smoke those blunts the size of batsWe got those gats as long as axWe snatch that cheese right off the trapWe put those Beez all on your map[Prodigal Sunn]I shoot the fair one, I dare ya'll run through New York CityOr any city or place, my face, royal taste, pace myselfAce my health, great with wealthUndetected like the wings of a Stealth, I move for selfOr any man, woman or child that I call famThat's the way I am, word to Glock, my sister PamSon, lived through the terror of the World Trade bluesNine o'clock news, abused the mind of many foolsBraves and jewels, made my moves, paid my duesFrom the School of Intelligence, I stayed benevolentMost high, magnify, multiply, as I add to the Kings of KingsWe never die, built my name, sustained like bloodFlow through the veins divine signDine with wine forever sunshine[Chorus][RZA]We smoke...[Masta Killa]From the Vil to Brazil, live on your C-SPAN radio bandExplicit, dice kiss it, pour a little liquorGolden imported from Cuba, Miss ArubaSexy as Asia, met her up in MeccaGetting up in Just Cipher, hit it on the first datePlotted my escape, twelve hours shift at the gateHow can you beat a G a week in '88?Trips to the Pocono Lodge, the fresh IzodMama shouldn't work so hard to pay the landlordA grand in your birthday card, times is hardThe gun hammer click, when the pigs blitzWe scramble like Vick, automatic six plus one to the headYo, the east so hot, it's red, but that's homeAnd my Glock still burn your skin to the boneSonny Corleone don't discuss it on the phone[Chorus to end]