Shaolin Vs Lama (Instrumental)

How dare you challenge me? Malayan tiger I think it's time we went deep into the archives No one is allowed to enter the sacred foe This Alaskan nigga approached me, he had suede on Caesar had half moon, had his weight on Five, six, drop, pressing Barbados Stacked potatoes, rockin' Kris shit, had Play-Doh What's your name? Louis Rich the Third Bag your herb, half of that, kid, probably a burb Now we speak, took off my hat, waves thinkin' Beat, they think he actin' like he know about Reef Still unsure, other than that, feel more than safe Let money fake, I got three, boys hate that Rolled up, thought a nigga would front and fold up Threw the medallion out, rocks all rolled up Who should beat this? Money grabbin' his drink Bumpin' the Leafs, that's Chico, yo, what up with Rico? He's chillin', glanced at his nigga with the Rams hat Checked the stands, then check where his hands at Drinks was gorgeous, priceless shit, that's foolish Fifteen thousand in the trunk, he asked for Louis' cat Reached, grabbed his burner, shots released like a new single, though Except one touched the god niece, emotional Blowin' them shots like they promotional Shorty run from the door, hit the floor, commotion Won't stop playin', bangin' on the door, jakes layin' Something crazy, he had an eighty and a cat hand Stay still, kid, them niggas over there want drama Hold your head, sort of like Wu vs. Lama Grab the ether, salute them niggas, you got shit Calico pop shit, rap burglar rock shit (yo, yo) You're bein' watched like you new on the block from rooftops Get your booze on, these hot shots pop, the music stops Party's over, bold soldier move for his holster Shot the lights out, struck the bouncer in his shoulder Hard times for Po-9 Can't control the masses scream for more, backstage, we slingin' V.I.P. passes Jakes sprayin' mace, riots be takin' place When the Clan show their face, the fans slow their pace Get your blunt rolled, fuck the 5-0, they want it done, though Bitches get trampled, niggas wildin' in the front row Fire marshall catch a beat-down tryin' to cut my sound Radio dispatcher back-up Bustin' rounds without intermission from a crouched position Bullets ricocheted off the strobe-light, strikin' Christians My nigga slipped in 'nough ammunition to bust back Fuck that, them out of- own cats'll take the rap It's war on the dance floor, quarter to four Before we peeled off, they tried to seal off the back door Gats for the beast, high-pursuit down the side street Shot up my getaway Jeep Crashed the front glass, and blew the head-rest off the passenger seat I grabbed the heat, ditched the whip and then escaped on feet While the locals interrogated for names and photos Work with 5-0, swappin' info for dough Stay still, kid, them niggas over there want drama Hold your head, sort of like Wu vs. Lama Grab the ether, salute them niggas, you got shit Calico pop shit, rap burglar rock shit Stay still, kid, them niggas over there want drama Hold your head, sort of like Wu vs. Lama Grab the ether, salute them niggas, you got shit Calico pop shit, rap burglar rock shit What? Uh Ain't scared of that, but listen