Another Chessboxin’ ArgumentWugazi

[Intro: "Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang" + "Five Deadly Venoms"]
A game of chess is like a swordfight;
You must think first before you move
Toad style is immensely strong and immune to nearly any weapon;
When it's properly used it's almost invincible

[Verse 1, 2, and 3 from Da Mysteries of Chessboxin', Enter the Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers, 1993]

[Verse 1: U-God]
Raw I'm a give it to you, with no trivia
Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia
My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation
Like the Emancipation Proclamation
Weak MCs approach with slang that's dead
You might as well run into the wall and bang your head
I'm pushing force, my force you're doubting
I'm making devils cower to the Caucasus Mountains

[Verse 2: Inspectah Deck]
Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire
Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah
I come from the Shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from
Is coming through with enough niggas, and enough guns
So if you want to come sweating, stressing contesting
You'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection
Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk
Phony niggas are outlined in chalk
I'm mad vexed, it's what the projects made me
Rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me
Steamrolling niggas like a eighteen wheeler
With a drunk driver driving, there's no surviving

[Verse 3: Raekwon the Chef]
Rough like Timberland wear, yeah
Me and the Clan in 'Yota Landcruisers out there
Peace to all the crooks, all the niggas with bad looks
Bald heads, braids, blow this hook
We pack chrome Tecs, nickel plated Macs
Black ACs, drug dealing styles in phat stacks
I only been a good nigga for a minute though
Cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo
I got beef wit commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth
Lamping in a Lexus eating beef
Straight up and down don't even bother
I got forty niggas up in here now, who kill niggas' fathers

[Ian MacKaye]
Here comes the argument
Here comes the argument
Here comes the argument
Folderol
It's all about strikes now
So here's what's striking me

[Verse 4: Method Man, from Method Man (Remix), Tical, 1994]
Hey you get off my cloud
See me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffing on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha
Monk on the hunt for machine gun funk
I gets you open like a slug from the shotgun pump
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in mi casa
Straight up, you moving too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more now you eight up
Get on down with your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on
Few can ever get this ultimate legit
See you all up in my ass
But you don't know shit, uh-huh
What's your definition of a real emcee
From what you dedicated, hey it must be me
Meth-Tical, a rude descendant of the loud hip-hop
I go on to the break of dawn, and just don't stop
Give me the green light, and the sign one way
Have you had your meth today? Huh!
Move it in, move it out
Stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down
Come on down, Meth-Tical
Move it in, move it out
Stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down
Come on down, Meth-Tical

[Ian MacKaye]
Here comes the argument
Here comes the argument
Here comes the argument
Folderol