1112 Lyrics - Beneath The Surface - Gza

Bobby said, "Fuck spending fifty on a whip, buy equip" 

Mental flip, he got a thousand tracks stored on a chip 

Said he had mad toys to make noise 

He split and separate drums like asteroids 

The concerned producer sampled this question 

Hit him with the beat for the answer with extra compression 

My sound travel, it quickly grab you 

And equalize the pitch up, until it have you 

Bugged out, tryna think you can match this 

The portraits are too graphic 

Panoramic view for you, stamp Wu 

The beats are Gothic, the outcome will be catastrophic 

We roadblocked it, checkpoints on your next joint 

Now who the nigga you anoint? 

700 volts on the track to slay 

Murderous wordplay displayed from killing cascades 

Throwing bullets in the air to test wind 

Which way the cyclone spin? Counter or clockwise? 

Still civilized 

Kill spies on the wall as still flies, all dies 

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Give no extension on the lynching 

It's tension if the name of the Clan is mentioned 

It's the aura that's felt that causes one to flash his gun 

And reveal how he really feel, confirmed 

He'll never live after the show 

See the promoter for the dough I'm taking, breaking his wax 

Throwing my shit on to perform the selection from the Swarm 

Day 2 breaks, it's a stormy Monday 

My ninjas lay in ravines and ditches underneath shrubs and leaves 

They breathed through underwater reefs 

The enemy walks above, Clan remains subterraned in mud 

Off shore banks, tanks approach the location 

Bombarded by the circle of death formation 

Telecom lines are sniped from these low altitude strikes 

Shattering bulletproof helmets with shrapnel fragments of cell 

Inhale these venomous thoughts that I propel 

Through the north facility, the city must suffer 

At the hand of the Chief's command, volts are sent 

At three minute intervals the heat intenses 

Deadening the power from electrical fences 

Defences are down, shake a nigga up 

Bounce him off the sound 

Photos 

You know what I'm saying? 

The God ca-diver, in the streets of Iris 

We talk about sex, money and drugs 

(Ruled by power) And y'all cats don't know 

What it's about (Love and power) 

It goes deeper than what you see on TV 

Killah Priest, come on 

Burning desire, ebony eyes 

Painted toenails, legacies die 

Women by the well, Egyptian queens 

Arabian sheiks paid to knock off rich kings for the joy some sing 

Graveyards filled with scarlet widows 

Who stabbed they husbands sleeping on silk pillows 

Blood on they robes, disguised as beggar in cheap wool clothes 

Lambs and wolves in black hoods pull out they gats 

Like magic wands, casting spells, sending niggas to Hell 

Trapping they souls in realms 

Baptize them with Holy Water 

Springing on the heads of plenty witches' daughters 

Interviews with the richest reporters, silent nights over Nevada 

A thousand Muslims bow before the Kaaba 

Hebrews flee to the hills of Masada 

For the love of God, guns make a loud sound 

I'mma show you how thugs get down 

Shootouts, bullets turn into bloodhounds and hunt you down 

Cursed nation, lost generation 

X-Files found them in the future as cosmic rulers 

Fallen angels from space intruders 

Dying saints, blood spilled on the floor like wet paint 

See it in the pictures, read it like the lost scriptures 

Absorb it with your 100 proof liquor 

I shot the sheriff and the deputy secondly 

Threatening the lives of those who threaten me 

Lessening my chances of defeat by predetermining the victory 

As taught by Sun Tzu in the chapter, after the third one 

I heard my word shall be born, regardless to anything or anyone 

Or else I die by the gun, my life has just begun 

Thought I was living all along, but I was wrong 

This long road I have to travel in countless battles 

These filthy snakes with poison fangs and rattles 

Kings, queens and pharaohs change to cattle 

Unable to duck the Devil's arrow 

Singing that his eye's on the sparrow, mind narrow 

Superstitions, horoscopes and tarots 

'Hark Heralds Angels' and Christmas carols 

Graven images hang from the mantels 

Man-made slaves in modern day Babel 

Brought from Africa in golden robes and sandals 

By wicked thieves and vandals 

Who manhandled us with leather whips and burning candles 

And rambled through our castle, leaving niggas shambles 

Stole our golden sodas like some Arab camels 

We gazed, amazed and baffled as he loaded his ammo 

Into the barrel and blasted out our bone marrow 

We were the Gretel and the Hansel, tricked by this wicked jackal 

Children of my grand-old-daddy have me 

In mind when they're lost in this wilderness blind