RZA
Sword Style
[Excerpts from a Wu-Tang Clan Interview]

We are the world, why are we paying men to fight other men, my flag’s unfurled. You shot a squirrel through the head of a solider with your sniper rifle, feel like a disciple? Think it’s right because of survival? I trifle a little bit in the past, my gramps fought in World War II, and took a bullet for you. Yet we’re still fighting at night, we can’t sleep enemies might be creeping in the street. Want to end up six feet deep? Then don’t lose track of your feet. Hop in the jeep, load the machine gun and keep your eyes peeled son, because right now you can’t run

If you love it, rise above it. Be number one under the sun. Have some fun while you’re still on tour, because when you get back peace will replace the gore. Reap what you sow, but I don’t know anymore. We’re all just trying to do our best in this life, no strife, a wife, alright? A little but of it gets me closer to what I need by tonight, or maybe tomorrow. All my beats are borrowed. I have no sorrow. Just want to speak for a while, style on trial, but I’m on
Denial, how much better do I need to get? To become a rap vet

Jack joined the military, it was a little scary at first, testosterone at its worst. Went from stick skinny to built on land of silt, he had no guilt. Till one day a mine blew up the convoy, he was in
Commanding officer plastered with a permanent grin. He was alive as tin and now Jack was the man in control of his troops. Couldn’t let his shoulders droop, had to move like a deuce coupe

With great power comes responsibility but he wasn’t ready, got to his head. Knew he was ill equipped, but he faked it till he made it. Hoped that someone would appreciate the time he devoted to the grind but instead his troops hated his guts. Thought it was a little much but he realized, everyone is human. A storm was brewing, mutiny on the mind of his crew and he had some doing to do. To make it up to them and save his skin, otherwise he wouldn’t have a chin

It was ugly as sin, he gained their trust, set the thrust to eleven. Barred their enemies from heaven. Returned to the States filled with bloodlust and a nasty habit to cuss. Like every other word, it was a little absurd, the transition to civilian life. Unarmed yet with hands trained to kill, it takes strong will not to flip out. Post
Traumatic trip route. Mental institution after losing both your hips, ow; need some pills now. Can you imagine how that feels? Wow

Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget, history. We study it so we don’t have to relive the past. Constantly on blast, if we are ignorant might as well live like outcasts. Empathy, equality, goes down the drain fast in desperate situations the United Nations ain’t enough to stop rage. We need a cage or at least a gauge so we can
Disengage from all the bacteriophage. Floating around the minds of men, known as aggression

It’s an obsession why haven’t we learned the lesson that I’m stressing? That pacifism is the key, why can’t global peace be reality? Left hand ready, right with a pen of peace, idle infractions, I lack action with intended police. Plastered on the screens if you know what I mean. What is it that we haven’t seen, I glean at theories but only seem more confused. I think I’ve got bad news but float on. I’ve been sitting on my education. Feeling upset, don’t want to grow up yet but still, it’s a fact of life: the strong see tomorrow and the weak get sliced

I’m from Union City, love but I didn’t pack a knife. Well that’s
Alright, and as a matter of fact, hear this track? My tongue spits life