Stop The BreaksDJ Ron G

[Break: Kurtis Blow, Raekwon]
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
(Well, let's start it like this, son)

[Refrain: Wu-Tang Clan & Raekwon]
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Droves of styles older than sharkskin, now commit the barking
I gather rhymes and load up, 'cause it's a hold-up
I meditate fast to assassinate a class, a dull sword
Check the graphics on this rap chalkboard
Peace to RZA Razor, yo, the nigga's major
Who slice tracks fast like whities with Gillette razors
And won't stagnate, the ragged Dragon Lee
Regenerate, clearin' the area, air out and ventilate
See, yo, I'm natural, swift like a mackerel shark
Gat-packable, attackable in this art
Now watch a beat that makes and shakes and breaks ya
Ron G makes a million off his name, son
Ayo, peace to uptown, Shaolin now
Walk through, child, it's wild
Huh, hit you like this son
Ron G, '94, takin' em to war

[Refrain: Wu-Tang Clan & Raekwon]
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)

[Verse 2: Killa Sin]
Yo, I got piles and piles of my styles to utilize
And brutalize niggas who despise 'cause I'm super fly
There ain't a nigga in the game who can tame me
I flip A&Rs if they try to rearrange me
So how the fuck do you figure you can hang
With a nigga whose slang is equipped to pick a nigga's brain?
I come hard to the fullest scar
From pulling cards, to leaving niggas scarred on the boulevard
Check my steez, my rep is kept pleased
Like these biceps that I flex when I crack your knees
A homicide in the making, you enter the chambers
And sentenced to death for move-faking
See mad thoughts fill the mind of a Killa
Sin is iller than your ordinary blood spiller
When it's time to come into the track
I'm like a maniac, slapping your stack when it's all back
What? 1994, give it to ya raw
Mix king records, word up
That's what I'm talkin' about

[Refrain: Wu-Tang Clan & Raekwon]
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang (Well, let's start it like this, son)

[Verse 3: KRS-One]
Easy soundboy, 'ere watch ya chat
Allow me to set the party off with the fly rap
Aye-aye, cap, suckers wanna battle give me mine
You rhymes wouldn't be fly if you said them on Delta Airline
Now this'll take a second, Kris has come to bug out
You waiting for some lovey-dovey, hug me, get the fuck out
I got the hardest texture, lecture or whatever
I got to survive G, I ain't no saint
I do graffiti art, but like Martin's home decorating center
I ain't, just, paint, wait, wait
Wait, wait, let me speak, let me speak
While I'm on this beat your career is looking bleak
I couldn't understand why you were coming soft and sweet
But that explains why your rhyming skills are weak
You need a quicker picker-upper, rip a sucker
Put my album on toast 'cause it's butter
You dissing me will never happen slightly
That's like Arsenio Hall on TV saying, "Kill whitey"
You might be slightly thrown off at my complexity
Lyrical ecstasy is achieved by standing next to me
You should of known your career was gonna end
Should of called Dionne Warwick and her psychic fucking friends
Now it's ended, can't be mended, how splendid
For wack MC's, I come doctor recommended

[Verse 4: The Notorious B.I.G.]
I'm hard, Jehovah said I'm barred from the Pearly Gates
Fuck him, I didn't wanna go to heaven anyway
But my mama got me on my knees with my hands gripped
Talking 'bout some "Praise the Lord" shit
"Hail Mary"? Fuck her, I never knew her
I'd probably screw her, and dump her body in the sewer
"Our Father"? My pops stuck up dope spots
Big, black and mean, with the fifth by the gabardines
What you expected from his next of kin, huh?
I'm loco, bro, but ain't no Mexican
I got nines in the bedroom, Glocks in the kitchen
A shotty by the shower if ya wanna shoot me while I'm shittin'
The lesson from the Smith & Wesson is depressin'
Niggas keep stressin', the same motherfuckin' question:
How many shots does it take to make my heart stop
And my body start to shake? Ron G, stop the breaks

[Break: Kurtis Blow]
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody

[Verse 5: O.C.]
Yeah, O.C. representing from Jamaica, Queens like this
You have now stepped into the realm of a man
With topics, open your optics, I rhyme for what I stand
Brace your boxes and stereo decks
I'm here to do more than just collect checks
So get fixed to the wheel of force, see, I'm the Jedi
When I'm in flight it might be like the red eye
Swift, take a wiff of my vocabulary
I'm wild like berries, I pop it like a cherry
Ron G composed it, everyone knows it
Life brings death from guns to roses
Shoot outs, put doubts of a nigga to a test
Shit is hex so I just might get a vest
But what good is a vest if you're aiming for the dome?
Kick it from a janny-port nickel plated chrome
Blast you in the face, massacring niggas
Figuring the referee foes that's bigger

[Outro: Kurtis Blow]
Clap-Clap your hands everybody
Clap-Clap your hands everybody