R.E.C. Room

Killah Hill, Killah-Killah Hill

Killah Hill, Killah-Killah Hill

Killah Hill, Killah-Killah Hill

10304 style, kid

For my DMD, Wreck Posse ****

You out there? Is you out there?

I throw your brain in the cobra clutch, behold the rush

A dazzlin' display if you can get close enough

Cold crush like the four, sting of anaconda

Fierce darts that'll pierce through solid armor

Lounge in the barracks with Blue and Cappadonna

Spider-Man, identity Peter Parker

Crowd pleaser, register off the meter

Vocal street sweeper, buck shots through the speaker

Pleasure seekers, fifty thou' in the stands

True fans get it hot like Jamaica sands

Conquer land, wide like an eagle wingspan

Clansman stabbin' the track with both hands

Not a lost soul who fall 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

Stride calm Through The Fire like Chaka Khan

World wide on the web without the dot com

Killah Bees live in the place 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, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec

Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec

Yo, Killa Bees swarmin', protect your neck

Was the warning, 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 and went

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 rap in the stretcher

Featherweight 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 a blood sport, 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

Killah Bees live in the place yo 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, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec, Rec

Ay, yo, yeah, yo, what, I hit Medina, hand cocked and ever greener

Trees got me leanin' in the seven seater

Vocal street-sweeper, you might give Mike the three pointer

Urban, peace deserving, warrin' with the C-Cyphers

I, black rollers ignite with high voltage

Diagnosis, high doses of ex