[Intro: Cilvaringz]
Bang that shit, aiyo my tongue be the sword
We on the track with this sick (bangin' ass track)
Peace Shabazz (Steel Valley) watch the fortress, nigga
Yeah, G.O.D., slidin' forth, the God, 4th Disciple
It's one blood, we throw blades in the higher state
(Where death rates, escalate)

[Cilvaringz]
Yo, born to start building and stop graveling
Cuz every time I battle, I was taught forth, sent to killing
Played it back, stop fronting or get dealt with
My enemies be bumpin' weak beats like the heart of Yelsin
Iron death of blood kin, so if you think, you are fly
I'mma come to cut your wings
Cuz my shit's inconspicious, but that's my verbal fitness
I promise, that you end up talkin' to spirits
My lyrics, bruise the microphone when I spit
European Shaolin shiti, don't even bring it
I sing it, I write it, I dig a fuckin' picture
I even make Jesus write it down in the scriptures
Constantly in tactic, braggin', never sleeping
Always stickin' lines, like it's drug addict screaming
Spit close, that prophosize like horoscopes
I can't be cloned, Mozart, couldn't write my notes
Listen God, did you go and them writers to snatch wallets
Every time you sell a copy of your fuckin' album
I rock it like Dave Caneveble, I never cared for you
Just because your shit is terrible
I send my swordsman to fight it, while you bite shit
Now even Japanese cats, won't buy your shit
You battle me? Didn't teach momma teach your manners?
Don't fuck with any one, let's grab this weight to caliber
Prepare to, step to the God in the track
That's like, Russian Roulette, with a fully loaded gat
But if you do, you better pop condoms in your mouth
Cuz when styles hit, grenade, with the pin taken out
Explodin' in the face, for the rap Hercules
Adding his name to Eazy, Bob, Jake and Freddie Mercury
You heard of me? I'm that bomb ticking too fast
Create my enemies, and do a thing of the past
And transform grenades into a bed
And make rappers get witness protection programs
Cuz my shit is tight like a fetus pussy
My album be the flick, and my tongue is Bruce Lee

[Chorus 2X: 4th Disciple]
As we educate the minds of fools, we come through
And we ever take the heads of food, and set them jewels
As we demonstrate the Golden Rule
From the holy book of Tongue Fu

[Cilvaringz]
Yo, bee sting or sword swinger, kick you like the Nealson
After this, you better hide your face like Neighbor Wilson
Cuz I'dda flirt with 36 poetic asteroids
Got rhymes so fine, they post in Playboy
Eh boy, nobody make me, but that's hard to believe
Cuz I got the A-Team lookin' like babies
Plus I stand strong, but when you perform
Even your own click, puts the Walkmans on
Host the planes on my bed, cuz I write heavy shit
Criticize it, you went and walked in life's verbal kin
Behold the truth, fuck with Ringz, and I make Elton John write in hip hop
Candle in the Wind, when I battle, you get sick of seat castellus
That mean's I'm killing so fast, the Earth is spinning backwards
So let it be a lesson for you bastards
My Tongue Fu's the death grip, style of the Mantis
Rock a vest when you watch me on TV
And point a gun to my shit, when you pick it up at Fat Beats
Cuz my poetry, makes it hard to approach me
If rappers playin' ball, Phil Jackson would coach me
Release angle on the 'mics of insanity'
All my fans'll think Ringz battle gravity
Physically and mentally, engineer fear this
Even now I'm hearing nightmares about my lyrics
Crazy homocidal manslaughters, with style's bad
Record labels got me restraining orders
And I try to be the beast in the Middle East
But they bootleg my shit, and sold it at the Gaza Strip
That's what happens when you fuck up my music
Point fucking blank, the conclusion
Is challenge me to a battle, you dumb alone
But you believe in the spot, where ammo speak international
Yeah, you used to say him, fuck that gat
But now you get the rate your face with Meet Joe Black
Bitch, six hundred and fifty eight cranes of Tongue Fu
Crazy 4th Disciple

[Chorus 2X]