[Intro: chess sample]Castle points you tooYou're black takes on C4Then white could C4...

[GZA]I must put in time to get mine, many hours to earn powerLike the ashy hand, he should wear only the rope flowerI can't be a broke nigga, better in showersSellin' CD's on the corner of Sunset and DowerA small fry nigga in a baked potato worldSizzling in some beef full of grease like jheri curlsShout out to DJ's who kept it realShook a few in the thou', but some never broke the sealFuck them, I stick to college radios, mix showsHistoric university, to freestyle sick flowsMight give a lecture about your rap textureM.C. B-Boy, DJ, slash directorThe name was a bell that rang through the hallPopular is the tag in the bathroom stall, check itThis language is so captivatingWhen we lose a rap nigga, the news is devastatingWhether to the prison or grave, you know this rap shitIs built from the strength of those to hunger the craveMy Clan got rhymes for days, to be skilled, it paysMost of them can't escape the solar rays

*beat instrumental w/ chess sample*

[GZA]Name a crew that can stop the force that I strike withLet alone try to hold the pen that I write withYou can even chop off my fingers I type withThose I hold a mic with, thinking I might quitThey didn't know, that only makes me more determinedIch lebe fur hip hop, you can ask the GermansSome say I never got this for recognitionSo I, drop another, they shocked and still listenPlus I, ran into a well known musicianHe said this sample shit got too many cooks in the kitchenNow he's back to flipping love borns and cypher saysTo support his kids, much even hyper wizA bad amigo, will stroke your egoYou see the flash in the dash, weed blast with Buick-RegalThe same brother you was throwing your key toBrought the 7 niggaz in the building to see youYou know these god damn streets is so grittyWith sour milk from titties, that'll spoil the cityThe hood cornerbacks, strong attack is a blitzBut we don't lie down for shit, not even direct hits

[Chorus: GZA]From graffiti in New York, on the walls and trainsDJ's in California, to the shores of MaineB-Boys on the floor, who be doing they thangTo MC's, behind ropes, who had titles to claim

[GZA]My teams about shoot outs, the fans shout with loud mouthsThe clock ran out, the ref throw the sign, it's over time

The rambling, visiting teams schemeThe championship ring fiending, they must be dreamingThese rap players and slayers got alot of endorsementsMake them hire law enforcementsPlus, I just turned down tracks, can't remember theProducer with the beats is wack, sound similarIt gotta be exciting, striking, lightningBring the best out, to dawn through HarlemWriting, light stroke from my pen might chokeThe tape lent, got a little air, then half the spinsM.C.'s be stuck with fear fascinationThe nature in the scale of events, shook the stationI stick up the track, armed only with the penTerrorize it vocally with the force of wind

[Chorus]

[Outro: GZA (chess sample)]This is hip hop...(Then white takes C4, and C5, and C6..C5, Queen E5, E5, 95, Bishop takes C4Masters 3, and then castle...)