[Intro: (sample) Inspectah Deck]
(Everything's black, black is death
I knew there was something wrong when I saw that light
Am I... Am I going blind? Tell me, am I going blind?)
House Gang, Urban Icon
Your big brother Deck in ya face
A/K/A the General Maximus
A/K/A Radar, A/K/A Excalibur
Sword Bearer, RZA, what up?

[Inspectah Deck:]
I keep a blunt lit, holding my nuts, dark Caesar cut
Throw some dough on the wood, things can be discussed
I stay thirsty, grind and play Dirty
Worthy like James, with Nikes and game jerseys
Third degree penmenship, flow is effortless
Make the mass congengrate, like they methodists
Specialists, I'm ya draft pick, catch ya flicks
Heads get right off of this, it's that shit
Killa Hill madness, we at it
Fantastic like the Four, it's automatic
Off with the hinges, when it come down to legal tenders
It's business, we get in ya blood with no syringes
Certified live, provide the dope side
Both coasts slide, my vibe is so fly
Sick kid, see me get big with six fig's
I flip wigs, let it be known, the kid lives

[Chorus: Inspectah Deck]
Here's a little story, that I got's to tell
About the R to the E, to the B-E-L
Dipped off the scene, niggaz throught he fell
But now I'm back making heads spin like Sprewells

[Inspectah Deck:]
With the, eye of the tiger, like Stallone
I hit the microphone, my life can't be cloned by Spike Jonze
While y'all busy Being John Malchovich, ain't even bout it
Come out the house and see the streets, coward
With a fainted heart, make easy pray for the sharks
And bravehearts, bang hard, and aim sharp
On every block, something sold, is something cold
At ya back, so nothing's told after the fact
Yeah, I dwell where they bring the hell, kings'll fell
I try to leave the light, still my name ring bells
And I'mma be here for a minute, all in it
From the scrimmage, I was born with it, come on, get it
If you want it bad, we got automat's for ya fags
Take ya manhood, along with all you have
It's the Undadogz, hunger, dog, we run the yard
Dance with the wolves, and that's the fun part
I get my weight up, benchin' the world
Me, my man and my girl, thorough in my sec', reppin' my borough
Head shots of Henny, plenty broads in they cut offs
Send 'em on a date with your boss, when ya nut off, you done off
Blood lost, is more than a game, torture and pain
It's all for the fortune and fame, I said
Blood lost, is more than a game, torture and pain
It's all for the fortune and fame

[Chorus x2]

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