Intro:
Ohh mad one
We see your trap
You can never escape, your fate
Submit with honor to a duel, with my son
I agree
I see you using an old style, I wondered where you had learned it from
You know very well, its yours too
[yo god, its a duel, its a duel] heh, by the gods, will you show me?
[buck buck buck buck buck buck ] and where do you come for?
[duel of the iron mic ] you come here, since youre so interested
[duel of the iron mic ] fight me
[in the moonlight niggaz I will strike]
[what, what? bring it!]
Verse one: the genius
Yo
Picture bloodbaths and elevator shafts
Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft
Check the print, its where veterans spark the letterings
Slow moving mcs is waitin for the editin
The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry
A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry
Herbal vapors, and biblical papers
Smokin exodus, every square yard is plush
Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions facial expression
Leaves impressions, try to keep a shark nigga guessin
Give crazy shouts son heres the outcome
Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss
Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of sterlings
Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored shearlings
I aint particular, I bang like vehicular homicides
On july 4th in bed-stuy
Where money dont grown on trees and theres thievin mcs
Who cut-throat to rake leaves
They cant breathe, blood splash, rushin fast
Like runnin rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver
Chorus: ol dirty bastard
Duel of the iron mic!
Its the fifty-two fatal strikes!
Verse two: master killer
This is not a eighty-five affair, made clear
When the gods get on to perform storms blew up
Wus up, causin the crowd to self-destruct
Killer bees are stingin somethin while I reveal
Science, thats heavily guarded by the culprit
Bombin your barracks, with aerodynamic
Swordplay, poison darts by the doorway
Minds thats laced with explosive doses
Damagin lyrical launcher
Lunge at the youthful offender then injure
Any contender, testin the murderous master
Could lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts
Explode through your barrier, rips the retina
Who can withstand the astonishing punishing
Stings to the sternum, shocked in the hip-hop livestock
Seekin for a serum, to cure em
Verse three: inspector deck
Adults kill for drugs plus the young bucks bust
Duckin handcuffs, throats get cut when dough rush
Out of town foes look shook but still pose
We move lioke real pros through the streets we stroll
Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six oh
So control the avenues thats the dream thats sold
Bulding lobbies are graveyards for small-timers
Bitches caught in airports, keys in they vaginas
No peace, yo the police mad corrupt
You get bagged up, dependin if youre passin the cut
Plus shortys not a shorty no more, hes livin heartless
Regardless of the charges, claims to be the hardest
Individual, critical thoughts, criminal minded
Blinded by illusion, findin it confusin
Outro: ol dirty bastard
Duel of the iron mics [the master, he must be dreaming, heh]
Its that fifty-two fatal strikes [well, if he is dreaming...]
Duel of the iron mics [...then he must be asleep]
Its that fifty-two fatal strikes, nuh [and if he is asleep]
[then I will wake him up!]
[weahhhhaah-hah-hah!]
At the height of their fame and glory, they turned on one another
Each struggling in vain for ultimate supremacy
In the passion and depth of their struggle
They very art, that had raised them through such rapiant heights was lost
Their techniques, vanished
