INSPECTAH DECK


Rec Room Lyrics

Oh, Killah Hill, Killah Killah Hill
Killah Hill, Killah Killah Hill
Killah Hill, Killah Killah Hill

One-oh-three-oh-four style, kid, yea
For all my D.M.D. rec posse, niggaz
You out there? Is you out there?

I throw your brain in the cobra clutch, behold the rush
A dazzlin' display if you could get close enough
Cold Crush like the four-stinger anaconda
Fierce darts that'll pierce through solid armor

Lounge in the barracks with Blue and Cappadonna
Spiderman identity, Peter Parker
Crowd pleaser register off the meter
Vocal street, sweeper bucks shots through the speaker

Pleasure seekers, fifty thou' in the stands
True fans get it hot like Jamaica sands
Conquer land, wide like a eagle wingspan
Clansman stabbin' the track with both hands

Not a lost soul who falls for fool's gold
I shine like a diamond in the true state of cold
Too hot to handle, too cold to hold
Rap with a road block, I might lose control

Hold the globe in my iron palm
One hand holds the firearm on a mission that's life long
Strike calm through the fire like Chaka Khan
World wide on the web without the dot-com

Killa Bees live in the place to be
Burn third degree on the M I C
So deadly goes the catastrophe
And this is the way we crash the party
Say, rec, rec, rec

Yo, Killa Bees swarmin'
Protect ya neck, what's the warnin'?
So, proceed with caution, I walk with my swordsmen
We all in together, Wu-Tang forever gon' win

From Puerto Rico 'cross the caves of Berlin
Echoin' through cell blocks and federal pens
It be the Wu-Tang, you came in when
They left the game mentally and physically bent

What I invent, sharp as barbwire fence
I represent, sure to make a grand entrance
With the deadly lecture, contents under pressure
Inspectah, put your rep in the stretcher

Feather weight contenders surrender
TKO, first round knockout, vets to big spenders
Journey on the mic like Marco Polo
Internal bleedin' occurs to your photo

Thoughts brought forth as wild as up north
It's bloodsport, get rushed for tough talk
But I hold my ground like it's high noon
While police tapes surround the mic room

I jump on a live tune
Provide the boom
Those who consume become faint from the fumes

Killa Bees live in the place to be
Burn third degree on the M I C
So deadly goes the catastrophe
And this is the way we crash the party
Rec, rec, rec

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Songwriter(s): Robert F. Diggs, Jason Hunter
Publisher(s): Ramecca Publishing Inc., Universal Music - Careers
Record Label(s): 1999 Urban Icon Records LLC
Official lyrics by

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