Artist: Cilvaringz f/ 4th Disciple Album: Have Sword, Will Travel Song: Tongue Fu Typed by: Davida.b. [Intro: Cilvaringz] Bang that shit, aiyo my tongue be the sword We on the track with this sick (bangin' ass track) Peace Shabazz (Steel Valley) watch the fortress, nigga Yeah, G.O.D., slidin' forth, the God, 4th Disciple It's one blood, we throw blades in the higher state (Where death rates, escalate) [Cilvaringz] Yo, born to start building and stop graveling Cuz every time I battle, I was taught forth, sent to killing Played it back, stop fronting or get dealt with My enemies be bumpin' weak beats like the heart of Yelsin Iron death of blood kin, so if you think, you are fly I'mma come to cut your wings Cuz my shit's inconspicious, but that's my verbal fitness I promise, that you end up talkin' to spirits My lyrics, bruise the microphone when I spit European Shaolin shiti, don't even bring it I sing it, I write it, I dig a fuckin' picture I even make Jesus write it down in the scriptures Constantly in tactic, braggin', never sleeping Always stickin' lines, like it's drug addict screaming Spit close, that prophosize like horoscopes I can't be cloned, Mozart, couldn't write my notes Listen God, did you go and them writers to snatch wallets Every time you sell a copy of your fuckin' album I rock it like Dave Caneveble, I never cared for you Just because your shit is terrible I send my swordsman to fight it, while you bite shit Now even Japanese cats, won't buy your shit You battle me? Didn't teach momma teach your manners? Don't fuck with any one, let's grab this weight to caliber Prepare to, step to the God in the track That's like, Russian Roulette, with a fully loaded gat But if you do, you better pop condoms in your mouth Cuz when styles hit, grenade, with the pin taken out Explodin' in the face, for the rap Hercules Adding his name to Eazy, Bob, Jake and Freddie Mercury You heard of me? I'm that bomb ticking too fast Create my enemies, and do a thing of the past And transform grenades into a bed And make rappers get witness protection programs Cuz my shit is tight like a fetus pussy My album be the flick, and my tongue is Bruce Lee [Chorus 2X: 4th Disciple] As we educate the minds of fools, we come through And we ever take the heads of food, and set them jewels As we demonstrate the Golden Rule From the holy book of Tongue Fu [Cilvaringz] Yo, bee sting or sword swinger, kick you like Denilson After this, you better hide your face like Neighbor Wilson Cuz I'dda flirt with 36 poetic asteroids Got rhymes so fine, they post in Playboy Eh boy, nobody make me, but that's hard to believe Cuz I got the A-Team lookin' like babies Plus I stand strong, but when you perform Even your own click, puts the Walkmans on Host the planes on my bed, cuz I write heavy shit Criticize it, you went and walked in life's verbal kin Behold the truth, fuck with Ringz, and I make Elton John write in hip hop Candle in the Wind, when I battle, you get sick of seat castellus That mean's I'm killing so fast, the Earth is spinning backwards So let it be a lesson for you bastards My Tongue Fu's the death grip, style of the Mantis Rock a vest when you watch me on TV And point a gun to my shit, when you pick it up at Fat Beats Cuz my poetry, makes it hard to approach me If rappers playin' ball, Phil Jackson would coach me Release angle on the 'mics of insanity' All my fans'll think Ringz battle gravity Physically and mentally, engineer fear this Even now I'm hearing nightmares about my lyrics Crazy homocidal manslaughters, with style's bad Record labels got me restraining orders And I try to be the beast in the Middle East But they bootleg my shit, and sold it at the Gaza Strip That's what happens when you fuck up my music Point fucking blank, the conclusion Is challenge me to a battle, you dumb alone But you believe in the spot, where ammo speak international Yeah, you used to say him, fuck that gat But now you get the rate your face with Meet Joe Black Bitch, six hundred and fifty eight cranes of Tongue Fu Crazy 4th Disciple [Chorus 2X]