Artist: Inspectah Deck, Sheek Louch, Ghostface Killah Album: The Man with the Iron Fists O.S.T. Song: Bust Shots * Typed by: Cno Evil * Bonus track One, two, three... [Intro: Inspectah Deck] Pretty Tone, I got you.. Fingers [Inspectah Deck] Morphine flow, lean on the brass gold I can see your snake eyes without the crap roll Bust the mack stroll, laughing at you assholes Sticking thorns in my pride like the Black Crowes Cracking your dome for breakfast, Deck spit Lava, fresh like the product section Repping, there's no use testing, you know who stepped in It's Deck, bitch, for those who question Like Serena on the swerve, I swing hard Main event, bad broads with ring card This shit here, niggas get the fiend nod On the wreck, though, these cowards never seen yard Head boss, you scavenge off what Deck toss I don't fall for petty talk I check the source Flex force with army arms, I lets off Bomb threat, blow both your stanky legs off [Chorus: samples] "And make you bust shots in the air and scream yeah!" - Inspectah Deck "Or, try and learned it from the mental shit, son" - Sheek Louch "And make you bust shots in the air and scream yeah!" - Inspectah Deck "Blaow.. bang, cuz" - Method Man "Cuz I write, and blast and slash your whole level" - Ghostface Killah "Or, try and learned it from the mental shit, son" - Sheek Louch "And make you bust shots in the air and scream yeah!" - Inspectah Deck "Yeah, kid" - Ghostface Killah [Sheek Louch] Pay attention, gun shots, fuck what you benching Big chains on my neck, my wrist is Clinton Presidential Rolex, coming out the projects Seat back looking mean in a foreign object Three for twenty in Japan, with American money Get back home, get head from American bunnies My Iron Fists, my platinum wrists My cook up game is chemists, fuck my nemesis Fly birds like Tyson do, had to switch From the car to the cargo on board Jet Blue Bodies drop from the Liquid Swords, been making hits for years But I'm mad I ain't got no awards I'm a real OG tho, swag like James Bond and 'em My white tee is my tuxedo Belts on the track, Sheek and Ghostface Got the hood on smash, RZA leave it like that [Chorus] [Ghostface Killah] We be jammin', I grill on the track just like salmon I don't play no games, baccarat or backgammon I'm Supreme Cliente', rawer than sushi And if your girl got my number, means I beat that pussy Sword slayer, dick slinger, I got the stroll Of an R&B singer, Wu-Tang ruckus bringer 36 different dialects, we call spot checks My homeland security, is up in the projects Shaolin, Stapleton, Bricks on Broad Street That's where niggas get chopped up like raw meat Fuck that, started off rocking a stocking Over my face, now my face is what gets it popping Donnie had the wave voice, beeing blowed through the mic The definition of true TV, fuck Spike I'm the realest Akeed that ever wet these blocks Too black for BET, two wild for Cops [samples] "Brothers try to pass me, but none can match me" - Ghostface Killah "Or, try and learned it from the mental shit, son" - Sheek Louch "Wu-Tang" - Inspectah Deck "Coming from the 36 Chambers, bang!" - Method Man