Bloody Samurai - RZA, Thea Van Seijen, Black Knights

Yeah;

I’m like daredevils, I dare devils to take it to that level

Make 'em dig they own grave with they own shovels

Sharpshooter, drop helicopters, black out shadows

'Cause when it’s time to ride, it’s like pedal to the metal

Full fledged, beat suicidal, leave holes with skull heads

Hit your cult for your vault, leave 'em all dead

And some nice swipe game plus handsome

Hoes hold me ransom get mad and throw tantrums

Seven braids like Samson, strength of Job

Since these niggas wanna trip, I make it all unfold

Didn’t choose the genie, didn’t choose the leprechaun

Niggas better watch the gravesite they stepping on

Thinking it’s a game I rose him, now your ass is frozen

Nuclear explosion, we straight West Coastin'

I was born as a soldier, and I’ll fight in a field

I’ll run like a hunter, and I’ll die in the field

Bloody samurai, my feat will never die

Bloody samurai, my sword will never die

The street apostle with Roscoe’s

That’ll burn flesh off your fossil

Make you suck on that nozzle

'fore you swallow these hollows

Clutching a bottle, yeah, I’m a hard act to follow

Nigga, I don’t write raps

Little homey, I write novels

Every chapter I capture, the mind of millions

When I slang raps like crack, to the women and children

Bring down the building

Crowd roars oh what a feeling

Feels good like I’m puffing on that sticky chameleon

The street villain

Made most of his money from drug dealing

It’s rules to the game, trust nobody that’s squealing

Cuz snitching is a pet peeve

Like a bitch with a bad weave

It’s not honor amongst thieves, nigga deal wit greed

I’m from a breed of real killas

That’s cutthroat

That’ll front you to work and kill you if a buck short

Bloodsport

Flick you like the butt of my Newport

Or with the butt of my gun

Take that, nigga, run

I come to stop the hollering and screaming, blaow

Stop screaming, make a nigga wish he still dreaming

Since appearing against a ninja, taught him barbarianism

South Central mentalism

Like the local news on the local high school for all this realism

Don’t let all the whites go there cause all the whites’ll go there

Have 'em all braiding they hair, and having tattoos

And street numbers instead of good grades from school

It’s like ridicule, and what would Jesus do?

If he was standing at apartment, he was beeping with that dizzle

Like a hole ain’t enough to end all ridicule

But a hoe’ll get real holy enough to preach and end you

Bloody samurai, my feat will never die

Bloody samurai, my sword will never die

If you win, I’ll tell you where to find the number two

If I win, I have your head

Do we have a deal?