Artist: Iron Mic f/ Blizzard
Album:  12 Rounds, Vol. 1
Song:   Iron vs. Blizzard
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Intro: Iron Mic]
Yeah, Ruthless is Coming (4x)

[Iron Mic]
I put my deckers down til there's no paper
The weed that I roll up, it comes in flavors
Roll the haze, nigga, clown boy, I'm just waiting
Waiting on you to move, like we chess playing, bow, hear a tech spraying
That's right, them Staten boys is back, nigga
We in the game now, we fresh off the block with crack
What could they say now, there best bet is to lay down
Ya'll niggas sit on the bench, our turn to play now
Give me the rock, I let it go from way downtown
This is our town, bringing the brand new sound
You like a nail in the wood, you getting hammered down
And we ain't swinging no sword, we blowing hammers now
Ruthless, we the real lords of the underground
Talking bout you the streets, you never come around
Then it don't matter, these bloodhounds'll hunt you down
Gun you down, hit you with rounds, you muthafucking clown

[Blizzard]
Aiyo, I bite my tongue, I spit that right out
I'm trapped in this maze, nigga, trynna figure my way out
Don't be fooled by the lighter shade, air this place out, doggie
Ya'll mangie mutts don't got shit for me
Real niggas throw ya bitch ass from about eight stories
Gun ho, hold fort down with Sham and O
Ya'll can keep calling the cops, I never pack up and go
It's time to, stack up my dough cuz that's what I choose
Bet this HK'll make ya punk ass wanna move
See I'mma, keep on keeping on, my lucky charm
Is this four four long, that'll blow off ya fucking arm
Ice snatchers, raised by a wild pack of Bastardz
I keep plastic in my elastic, pull back and have it
My arm out the window, foot on the gas, about to peel off
A nigga like me ain't trynna see up north
And off top, ya'll talk about guns that don't pop
Every day on these blocks, so what if it's hot
I got to eat, muthafucka, my stomach is in a knot
And I don't rocks, my kids is all I got
I throw headshots, so you better duck in ya drop
And on your woodgrain there's brain fragments and blood spots
You better buck up, don't get it twisted and fucked up
Blizz, stay hooded up, cuz it's money I love

[Iron Mic]
YO, you listening to the illest nigga to ever do this
It's no excusing, we shooters, my set is Ruthless
My tech will prove this, we don't know who you is
Please believe everything you hear in this music
When you hear them tools click, you better move, bitch
We too swift, they can't catch us, we too quick
My movement is layed out, don't be foolish
Or get laid out, we playing the rulers
My two-fifths, do spit, don't make me lose it
What you prefer, life or death, nigga, then choose it
But don't be stupid, and don't confuse it
We in these muthafucking streets like Whoo Kid
The more work you put in, the larger you get
Got plenty of heat, ain't afraid to use it