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* features new second verse

[Shyheim]
Yeah yeah, hah
It don`t stop
Sid, Vince, Tyler
Ta`He, Rubbabandz
Killa Kane, Redman
Let`s go to war, baby!

[Chorus: Shyheim]
I keep it real, y`all know the deal
Every man for himself, similar to a battlefield
Never wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clat-clat

[Shyheim]
It`s be real, ain`t no time to cash no butterflies
Pass the St. Ide`s, screwface is my disguise
Don`t look me in my eyes that aint wise
The first chump that jumps is the first chump that lies
Raw, spell that backward that`s war
Lay low scarecrow I`m knockin at your front door
Pointin a pistol to your peekhole, sucker
Warning: my trigga finga gets pushy
Blaow, a single {shot} straight to the headpiece
Decrease the peace and watch the drama increase
See I`m ruthless, pistol whip a clown toothless
Me gettin hit, ludicris
I`m on my P`s and my Q`s
Try to put your foot in my shoes kid
You gotta pay the diggy-dues
I ain`t the one to play Pammy
I leave the head all red like that little orphan Annie
I`m dressed in black like Streets of Harlem
Pat punk`s pockets down with no problem
And get away just like an Unsolved Mystery
You don`t believe me G, check my pedigree
And you can feel how I deal with the {god} damn steel
This ain`t no game, it`s real

Chorus 2x

[Shyheim]
Now what? Punk, run and get you guns
and premeditate on murderin me, the Godfather`s Son
And I`m from Shaolin, home of the Gotti`s
? thugs catch the body`s, catch where I be
in the heart of the projects doin foul things
Livin like kings, known for pullin stings
Grimy as ever, roll my mom`s when I`m broke
Keep my ? up to par, never had a tec-tote
My record label and the FCC don`t like what I`m sayin
So on the radio, you might not hear this joint playin
I got styles like a, prayin mantis
Watch me do damage, pin that {nigga} to the canvas
My dirty broken language is a secret
Shaolin swordstyle, and never do we teach it, so peep it
Wu-Tang Killa Bee on the swarm
Word bond, I wet your block up like a rain storm
You think not, you see red dots on your forehead, you`re Elvis
Messin with these kids from Shaolin, you`ll get dealt with
Like Tip and Poetic, watch me set it with the quickness
Shyheim the good Son comes soon on 12-inches
The one man gang, never need an army
Killuminati got me at my window with a shotti
Like Malcolm, ready to touch anything that moves
Everyday lifestyle be a hustle like Smoothe

Chorus 2x

[Shyheim]
Brown Hornet, uh, Down Low Recka
June Lova, Big L
Gill-Gill, love you kid
Tump, Big Un
P`s, Big Grease
Big Red, hold it down baby
Uh, hah
Big Bogey, represent baby
Uh, Little Kane
You my baby boy, represent kid

* features new second verse

[Shyheim]
Yeah yeah, hah
It don`t stop
Sid, Vince, Tyler
Ta`He, Rubbabandz
Killa Kane, Redman
Let`s go to war, baby!

[Chorus: Shyheim]
I keep it real, y`all know the deal
Every man for himself, similar to a battlefield
Never wack, its a straight up fact
Or dip down in black once you hear the clat-clat

[Shyheim]
It`s be real, ain`t no time to cash no butterflies
Pass the St. Ide`s, screwface is my disguise
Don`t look me in my eyes that aint wise
The first chump that jumps is the first chump that lies
Raw, spell that backward that`s war
Lay low scarecrow I`m knockin at your front door
Pointin a pistol to your peekhole, sucker
Warning: my trigga finga gets pushy
Blaow, a single {shot} straight to the headpiece
Decrease the peace and watch the drama increase
See I`m ruthless, pistol whip a clown toothless
Me gettin hit, ludicris
I`m on my P`s and my Q`s
Try to put your foot in my shoes kid
You gotta pay the diggy-dues
I ain`t the one to play Pammy
I leave the head all red like that little orphan Annie
I`m dressed in black like Streets of Harlem
Pat punk`s pockets down with no problem
And get away just like an Unsolved Mystery
You don`t believe me G, check my pedigree
And you can feel how I deal with the {god} damn steel
This ain`t no game, it`s real

Chorus 2x

[Shyheim]
Now what? Punk, run and get you guns
and premeditate on murderin me, the Godfather`s Son
And I`m from Shaolin, home of the Gotti`s
? thugs catch the body`s, catch where I be
in the heart of the projects doin foul things
Livin like kings, known for pullin stings
Grimy as ever, roll my mom`s when I`m broke
Keep my ? up to par, never had a tec-tote
My record label and the FCC don`t like what I`m sayin
So on the radio, you might not hear this joint playin
I got styles like a, prayin mantis
Watch me do damage, pin that {nigga} to the canvas
My dirty broken language is a secret
Shaolin swordstyle, and never do we teach it, so peep it
Wu-Tang Killa Bee on the swarm
Word bond, I wet your block up like a rain storm
You think not, you see red dots on your forehead, you`re Elvis
Messin with these kids from Shaolin, you`ll get dealt with
Like Tip and Poetic, watch me set it with the quickness
Shyheim the good Son comes soon on 12-inches
The one man gang, never need an army
Killuminati got me at my window with a shotti
Like Malcolm, ready to touch anything that moves
Everyday lifestyle be a hustle like Smoothe

Chorus 2x

[Shyheim]
Brown Hornet, uh, Down Low Recka
June Lova, Big L
Gill-Gill, love you kid
Tump, Big Un
P`s, Big Grease
Big Red, hold it down baby
Uh, hah
Big Bogey, represent baby
Uh, Little Kane
You my baby boy, represent kid

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