Chorus: P.R. Terrorist (9th Prince) Yo yo, yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice) Yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice, with ruckus Killarmy, we put the mic on the crutches) (P.R. Terrorist) Apocalypse at my finter tips Sense ya tight grip exit a clip Fill with engraved initials of lyrical nondescripts On my hitlist, terrorist tartest, I never miss Strike a bullseye, say bonzai and ball my fist (Killa Sin) Yo I could pull da livest shit hang-gliding off the side of a cliff Country western bitch been known to chokehold on my dick Roll a spliff the size of dynamite sticks Sideswipe you and the mic boot Strike you till you yodle or ya name miss Make ya brain shift like earthquake plates in Vegas North Flake kicks, guaranteed dat ass a free face lift Crack ya jaw in three different places leave you speechless (P.R. Terrorist) Speak with a lisp Lyrics of force'll skip ya disk Shuffle your track, bring ya shit back then make ya piss thoughts of suicide, razor blade pressed against ya wrist Vocals bangin' off da walls of ya drums You can't resist Sudden impact, yeah jetblack Shine like Shalack Flashdance on 4th Disciple tracks, They off the meat rack The combinations's like one in a million Puerto Rican quarter bizillion Seven wise men making a killing In this rapworld, shattering niggas like glass buildings When my wind blow, you crabs move slow Murder you dolo, take ya heads off Riding a horse like playing polo (Killa Sin) I flow faster than Skolettos Used to hesitate to let go Now my darts echo for blocks and travel north rapidly like Metro Clap happy, rap cat get at me, wit ya faculty See half of them is petro, or deadly like fat ass is in the sex so Ya buttersoft, sweet talking, sweet walking niggas get ya neck broke for asking See I aim kid and my A stay missing in action Fire back when niggas start clapping Make it happen Chorus: P.R. Terrorist (9th Prince) Yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice) Yo, yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice, with ruckus Killarmy, we put the mic on the crutches) (9th Prince) I use niggas for target practice This year I plan to fuck the baddest actress On my waterbed Wu mattress I'm from the tribe of Shabazz, your alpine endurance Rhyme insurance, was stolen by the thief of Bagdad It's the world's greatest soundscanner Whose elbows is made of steel like Tito Santana The God's voicebox connects with high frequencies, Satellites and antennas, Prince Saddam is Shaolin's Highlander, with Evander Holyfield stamina I'll punch a hole in ya stomach, snatch out ya liver Wrap ya body in a plastic bag, and tell my fans My new dance is "Dead Man Floating In A River" my Kodak thoughts, picture dark, clear visions like transition lenses I rose with the illest, cross ya fingers you superstitious I'll still murder your ass, with influence of insanity conditions RZA and 4th Disciple tracks, make me wanna grab an axe Prince Saddam's a lyrical lumberjack A broken brawler, nighttime stalker, creepy crawler With a sawed-off shottie, rock the party, Go stick up the lobby Chorus: P.R. Terrorist (9th Prince) Yo yo, yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice) Yall niggas talk rubbish, we Wu-Tang publish (Yall niggas try to dub this the Gods serving justice, with ruckus Killarmy, we put the mic on the crutches)