Shyheim – Shaolin Style (L.e.s. Remix) lyrics

Album: Shyheim Presents Bottom Up Compilation, Vol. 1

[Intro: Pop Da Brown Hornet]
One two, one two
This how we gonna for ya
Shaolin Style, Brown Hornet
Hahahaha, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah

[Pop Da Brown Hornet]
I got a lotta anger, wrapped up inside a nut
It's ready to crack, so step the fuck back
It's not, feel the flame of an insane lyricist
Don't care about dyin for now, I want a death wish
Release the bezzle off ya chest, watch me absorb it
Then blast a nigga into orbit
My inner strength is too quick to stop tanks
So what are you trynna to do, shootin blanks
At an MC, like me, G, you must be crazy
Or better yet, you pose no threat to this microphone vet
So you do anything to stay alive
But you not strong enough, niggas can't survive
In the vocal war, because my literature
It's too hardcore, too allow ya niggas to score
I'm swattin, everything keeps tryin to drop in the basket
You ain't think I was Alaskan
The way I stretch above the rest
There's no doubt I'm on a quest to build
A solidified nest, you got me laughin
You thought you can fuck wit the flow
You'se a amatuer, perpatratin like youse a pro

[Karma]
I shine on the mic, like rings in dolomite
When I recite the fight, mad starve to bite
He can be on tonight, when the rugged rhymes blast
Smokin ganja, bustin niggas sides up, you can bring the drama
But bring it for the hoodie man, karma
Rugged mic bomber, when we hit the track, pro black like Bob Swanner
Bring it to the major league, wit fatigues like the army
Ya major bleeds, drop a seed, forever small grief
And if a nigga told me, I'mma see him in his dreams
Turn him psycho, death inside ya mind, transform
Nostradamus, said that I will come reborn
It's a promise, I do it for the city rock rhymers
Rhymes lethal, trapped no eatin up ya partners, ya illegal
Style is now under arrest, bullet proof
Can't stop troops wit mic techs
It's the showdown, low down dirty dozen
Hoodied in the squad, thank god, we like cousins
Blood brothers, there will never be another
One member representin for the others

[Shyheim]
In the concrete jungle, murdered for props
Nigga pickin the lock, we knockin down the door wit shots
Where the cheese at? Where the trees at?
Where the Lex, Coup and Benz Jeep keys at?
Call it what you want, a robbery and that
Bottom, Stapleton, hood rats
Description: ski mask, dipped in black on a mission
Like Ed, wit no plans to fall off
The top dog on the street, checkin your boss
Every cost in this +Little Shop of Horror+
Where it's hot like lava, don't do it to ya self
Rap saga, you new to this
Bustin BB guns, what can you do to this? Nothin
I got ya heart in 'dro, while you was bluffin
'Rust and I gets bizzy from the start
And New York niggas be afraid of the dark

[Squigg Trust]
Divine rules, it's ghetto soldiers
The lifestyle of heat holders
Five hundred dollar bill folders
456 cee-lo gamblers, outta state, half a key
Handle us, supply the nickel dime on the scramblers
By the gram, doin our dirt hand to hand
Livin infamous, bubblin in the seat, a hundred grand
Soon to be co-defendants, on the run for cypher heat
Shiesty ass niggas who remain on the streets
Far from the cold walls, of seat 74
Empty shells on icy floor, another sign of +Winter Warz+
In the wonder land is where I commit my sins
No time for born agains we makin moves like the wind
So get blown away by the shotty not the air
Ya body tremblin, my whole squad is what you fear

[Ill God]
Look into my eyes, and tell me what do you see, a true G
Or just another nigga wanna be, I see
The true G, be lookin out for me
My shadow, cuz if I die, that ass is dyin wit me
Your life's on the line, nine to ya spine
Caught from behind on ya way to sunshine
I find these MC's, play the roll of frontin
Hands on the nickel-plate, you ain't sayin nothin
Alize got me lit up from the get up
Crews I bruise up or even spit up from the shit up
Ruthless, it be on dunn, word is bond son
Red rum, MC dunn from Shogun
All hands on deck, I smell sweat
My palms is wet, and I'm as high as I can get
I pose a threat to any mc, who wanna be
The one who test me, I-double L G-O-muthafuckin D

[Outro: Shyheim]
Word up, what...
Shaolin Style, move on 'em, knawhatimean?
I got my niggas on this track
Squigg Trust, Ill God, and uh, Brown Hornet
Me, Mickey Knocks, word up
Representin Shaolin to the fullest
Now Born, Stapleton, Killa Hill
Wild Wild West, Port Richmond, Jungle Nills
Tow Hills, Grass Land, ho, out there niggas
Word up, one love yo...

Submitted by Guest