These rhythms can't deface me
 Hot rhythms stimulate me
 Can't help but swing it boy
 Swing it brother swing
 Don't stop the beat that's
 slapped this foolish brat
 Come on swing me boys
 Swing it brother swing

 

 Word up  let's take 'em to war  son
 Show 'em how it should be done
 It's real God
 Yeah  Yeah
 Stimulate the brain cells
 Check it  Check it

 

 Yo Killarmy bounty killers
 Industry kid shivers
 Shells up through your liver
 Dead corp float the rivers
 Murderous style is superior from Shaolin to Nigeria
 Stalking through the monitor
 With the wisdom for dynamical fessor (?)
 Lyrical kid in processor
 Nat Turner was my militant ancestor
 I capture your mind put in isolation
 Control the soul automation
 Victims became mechanical slaves again
 Read the East Coast historian
 As you oppose this
 Your walking dead soldiers can't get close to this
 I be splitting shit like Moses
 Then celebrate with Guns 'n Roses
 I turn soundtracks into startracks
 My tongue is symbolic to an axe
 I used to be caught up in the world of Mad Max
 Now come against the consequence of the 9th Prince
 I sit upon my throne and chop off domes
 Then send them home to your peoples
 So they can sew 'em

 

 

 Thoughts I generate like high forms of energy
 My brain's energetic
 Ultramagnetic synthetic
 Burn like oil
 High octane let it drain upon the Shaolin soil
 You get trapped inside my rap coils
 Like my phalanges rip the microphone
 When I recite a war poem
 It's writen in my soldier's log
 It's a Killarmy espionage
 Puerto Rican mobster in camouflage
 Perform at the Mirage my entourage
 Get the ticket through Telecharge as I massage lyrics get enlarged
 Grenade particles rip through your fatigue articles
 You flee for shelter
 My tre pound rounds'll melt you
 Like camouflage vinyl in the force of Delta

 

 

 What, what, one time
 Come on, swing it
 Bring it, what
 Killarm, yeah, swing it
 The Gods gonna bring it
 Real, what

 

 Yo, yo
 You either get down shut the fuck up or catch an uppercut
 Rough enough to muffle up your jaw when we knuckle up
 Knuckle what? Bacardi hit me harder than you
 You crash dummies show respect when the Gods is coming through
 Eyes swollen up the size of coconuts
 Your body folding up
 Allah the soldier struck and through the cut I walk and hold you up
 Sit back hang from your hip like loose Kani's
 Try to flip it on the strength of your wis' and let you slide
 Savage eighty five trying to test sides
 True we're living thirty two shots
 We're sending a rocket to your prison
 Caught you bubbling
 Like a cold sore the money coming in
 Juggling the church and street life you got me wonderng and catch 'em
 I let Allah bless 'em
 That's the question
 You dealing with a madman's profession
 So choose your weapon



 Word up, Killarmy
 Taking y'all to another war ground
 Hold down the battlefield, word up
 Shout outs to all my Universal Soldiers
 Killarmy, word up
 Deep Space 9, the Clan, word up
 Sunz of Man
 My nigga High Style, word up
 To all the soldiers in all the fifty two planets
 New York, Ohio
 Philadelphia, word up
 My Anna locked down Atlanta, for real
 Little Rock, Miami
 Pittsburgh, word up
 Washington D.C., upstate for real
 To all my juvenile niggas that's locked up in Tober Center
 Word up, Ryker's Island
 Peace to Big Queen (?) and Supreme
 Word up the God and General Wise
 General Wah
 Word up to the last soldiers
 My nigga Islord still locked down in the jungle, son
 Word up keep your sword up son, Killarmy gonna represent this shit, son
 Word up, peace
 Get out of here
 Peace