Jedi Mind Tricks, Ras Kass - Rise of the Machines lyrics

I was gonnna rip his heart out
I'm the best ever
I'm the most brutal and most vicious and
Most ruthless champion there's ever been
My style is impetuous
My defense is impregnable
And I'm just ferocious, I want your heart!
I wanna eat your children
Praise be to Allah!

They call me Kublai Khan
Ready for war with a Ruger 9
I'm ready with a machete for Rudy Giulian
I'm ready for anybody who want war
Y'all ain't nice with the
Hands you can't brawl
You can't stall behold the black horses
I'm runnin' up in ya
Church to smack crosses
You lack rawness, you lack passion
You couldn't make it through
War without rations
You just a homosexual I think
The gay rights movement
Should meet you and invest in you
Rhymin' 'bout flowers 'n shit
And poets on the mic for
Twenty hours 'n shit
I'm housin' ya shit Shuttin'
Ya fuckin' mic off
Snatch ya fuckin' poetry book and
Then kick the dyke off
Set the fight off, show 'em what real rap is
Real rhymes, real beats and real clappers
And we blast until cover
Make you see murder like Master P brother
(Yea, what's the deal baby
Yea, free Ras Kass, feel me)

"C'mon, let 'em know it's us
When we come on"
"While real MC's and DJ's are a minority"
"Clapper, down goes another rapper"
"Make way, cause here I come"

Yea, yo, yo, yea, fuck it
When I spit it get shitty like
The teeth of Mike Bibby
Live from nowhere keep the west
Coast with me like J-Kidd
Slay chicks if she pretty
Only fugitive you know slay
Chicks to be Diddy
No system electricity, spine the mind witty
Tryna go 50 50 with my Billboard's check
Like 800 first week, 800, 000 the next
They put on the cover of the
Vibe I just might flex
Na, I'm too lazy, with Hennessy and hoes
But I bench pressed the trigger
Of a four pound though
Hit enemies with rolls for
Money shows and clothes fuck bank rolls
I'm yellow gold with incredible flows
My homies hella cold
Cause love don't love nobody
Said he like the free spirit's with
Slugs to plump your body
'Til you shrug and flop like Vlade Divac
Paint picture perfect
Inside rockin' the b-bop
We not confused, rap's the nigga news
Each rhyme a "Minority Report"
Fuck Tom Cruise
Adversity my muse, that's why I make mus-ic
Transmit SARS, it's 20 bars as you spit