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Текст (слова) песни: The Last Emperor -    Heavyweight Invincible

[Verse 1]
If I could be invincible, I`d greet competition with rage
Do work and go berserk when I`m rip`n the stage
Ignite`n and write`n rhymes in so a ridiculous age
Lets `face off` like Travolta verses Nicolas Cage
Ah shucks, y`all finally got me to talk`n tough
Ready to bust these suckers that constantly bother us
Oh yes, just when all you thought was hopeless
One man fights back on behalf of the oppressed
And I`m so fresh- many say like Timothy McVeigh I blow sects
Don`t believe me now, you`ll go test and get your flow stretched
Take`n all threats and bets- double or noth`n I can match that
And bast raps- turn your Land Cruiser into a hatchback
But that`s just the start of it, a small part of it
My rhymes are known to crack bones- rip through your cartilage
You don`t want no part to this
When I start charge`n and barge`n in the hard way
I bring the butter, the (parquet ?) and the margarine
Two minutes past disaster, argue`n with the master
What I spit is combined with the same climate of Alaska
After I drop Anchorage, my language is filled with anguish
Breaking kids with their own songs like Weird Al Yankovich
Spin a web of deception and the best can`t untangle it
Bang`n like only the Mandu, like only I can do
I`d like to live but my homies don`t live in Landview
After years of jam`n, they`re cram`n to understand you
We`re go`n to war `coz poor people need a champ too

Chorus

[Verse 2]
Invincible, we`re genetically engineered
When I see emcees battle and expect me to interfere
Listen here- this rap game is child`s play like hopscotch
Traveling at the slow speed of a fox-trot, on my block
We accelerate and celebrate when a cop`s shot
For not give`n us the chance to (lamp like flave?) with a stopwatch
And block shots with just seconds on the shot clock
Send away for my album deal with three cereal box tops
I rock spots and never forfeit a battle on some (extortion?)
Brothas couldn`t get the picture if they ran out and bought it
Its a small eight by ten, but I turn it into a portrait
Make it rough enough to force Timberland to endorse it
Kill it with no remorses, the original, the liver-race
Interfaced with the internet and even flip rhymes in cyberspace
Nightmare on emcee part 5, cut like sharp knives
You`ve got enough rhymes to fill books- I`m fill`n libraries and archives
Though art wise like (Celaste?) for try`n to gas me
I gets nasty on the mic and battle for fame like Bug`s and Daffy
While you live trice- I give life to the dead and make the corpse bleed
Flip raps you couldn`t catch if you had your engine set a warp speed
To hell with the money and the fame
Watch me take you out your game
Its the young Jedi that Yoda forgot to train
If I park it- its not turn`n, once I spark it- I leave it burn`n
Emcees better start learn`n- I diss more brothas than Mark Fuhrman

 

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