Lyrics:
f/ Jeru the Damaja
[Intro]
(scratching)
It's the old sama
Of the commie sama
With the Ichiban DJ
King of the Iron Fist
We nasty at this
[Jeru]
Jeru the Damaja, DJ Honda, unorthodox
Off beat style, Musashi style
Lyrical swordplay
And it goes like this, check it
[Verse One]
Black Castro up on me, Fidel Negro
King terrific can't be hit
You're wastin' time, spendin' ammo
Scientists balance pol-ar
Digital mic throw chips in your moolah
Hardcore nucle-ar
Ain't the devil happy? Har-har
Rich rap star keep the sol-ar manifestation
And the stars succeed to the sun in this mathematical equation
Police still on my dick like an invasion
Lock me up, snatch up the transportation
Went to in New York, South Pacific migration
Wack emcee's watch this nigga's frustration
Believe me when I tell you that I dictate the mic like Fidel does his nation
Keep it flowin' like libation
Big heads the perfect for decapitation
Cook rhymes 'till they el dente
Lock down the mic like El Presidente
[Chorus]
(scratches by DJ Honda)
+Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
[Verse Two]
Conquer more dips than the late Hannibal
Terrain gets too rough, I ride the beats like wooly mammals
Smokin' shit like Joe Camel
Fatally inhale
Double-0-seven but you still got tail
Q's scrambling device must have failed
Spies, thick thighs, and mics get mil, lies
Deception, military prowess
Fat bitches, tours, and microphone powers
Chemical warfare and mortar showers
Once again blowin' up shit like the Twin Towers
Poison miles for enemies or whoever devours
Holdin' shit down until the last hours
[Chorus]
(scratches by DJ Honda)
+Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
El Presidente
Fidel Negro
DJ Honda
Black Castro
Musashi be doin' it like that
Lyrical sword style, you know what I'm sayin'?
Puttin' all emcees out on they back
Can't handle it
You don't know it hits you 'till it hits you
That's it
We done, finished
Peace
[Intro]
(scratching)
It's the old sama
Of the commie sama
With the Ichiban DJ
King of the Iron Fist
We nasty at this
[Jeru]
Jeru the Damaja, DJ Honda, unorthodox
Off beat style, Musashi style
Lyrical swordplay
And it goes like this, check it
[Verse One]
Black Castro up on me, Fidel Negro
King terrific can't be hit
You're wastin' time, spendin' ammo
Scientists balance pol-ar
Digital mic throw chips in your moolah
Hardcore nucle-ar
Ain't the devil happy? Har-har
Rich rap star keep the sol-ar manifestation
And the stars succeed to the sun in this mathematical equation
Police still on my dick like an invasion
Lock me up, snatch up the transportation
Went to in New York, South Pacific migration
Wack emcee's watch this nigga's frustration
Believe me when I tell you that I dictate the mic like Fidel does his nation
Keep it flowin' like libation
Big heads the perfect for decapitation
Cook rhymes 'till they el dente
Lock down the mic like El Presidente
[Chorus]
(scratches by DJ Honda)
+Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
[Verse Two]
Conquer more dips than the late Hannibal
Terrain gets too rough, I ride the beats like wooly mammals
Smokin' shit like Joe Camel
Fatally inhale
Double-0-seven but you still got tail
Q's scrambling device must have failed
Spies, thick thighs, and mics get mil, lies
Deception, military prowess
Fat bitches, tours, and microphone powers
Chemical warfare and mortar showers
Once again blowin' up shit like the Twin Towers
Poison miles for enemies or whoever devours
Holdin' shit down until the last hours
[Chorus]
(scratches by DJ Honda)
+Rule the mic like Fidel Castro+
El Presidente
Fidel Negro
DJ Honda
Black Castro
Musashi be doin' it like that
Lyrical sword style, you know what I'm sayin'?
Puttin' all emcees out on they back
Can't handle it
You don't know it hits you 'till it hits you
That's it
We done, finished
Peace
