My game's finesse It's full of pain and stress I train to press And leave a pain in your chest You came to test My team is dangerous You're playing the best At the game of death
[Verse 1: Shaq]
Yo, and we gon get 40 milla to shoot to killa Arena's filled to capacity to see this thrilla (?) mystic, my style is supernaturally terrific Non-believers y'all can check the statistics I enter the dragon like I'm Bruce Lee And next to the dragon like (?) I run straight through your battlefield Told you 'fore I made (?) I'm fully loaded, get your crew (?) How your rhymes overplayed and mines are diamond-coated When I lace up to cock back, you better react to Shaq Like "clear the room", if not - chick-chick-boom! From here to Mekka, I'm know for nothing less I sleep with one eye open and keep my joint on my dresser From ashes to ashes and dust to dust If you woke up (?), then you will get bust
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Rakim]
My game is authentic, finesse with less floss in it To the finish, my overall percentage off limits Deadly radar, don't try to come outside and play y'all My strategy's to set up or shoot out, slay y'all Taught in New York, it's a contact sport When we hold for it or get your contract cut short It's perminent, injuries are nonperformative Thought's a torture, terrify your team in a tournament Me and Shaq react with a kill or be killed kind of attack That's that, you can't come back You get your frame swollen, left with your brain showin' You came holdin', it got your whole game stolen A franchise, kid you can't rise, it's the shot out I shoot 'em down and blow your inside stuff out Rakim remains the (?) on and planes And I ignore the pain, because I love this game
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Shaq]
I'm devoted to cash, rappin', basketball After all I'm after y'all, smack you all, catch you as you fall I fumigate that ass like fuel some gas, the blast will pass I don't care who first or who last My apparat is Dream Team 2 and 3 status It's your choice of gettin' knocked, pop the lock, Shaq's the baddest I represent the east coast, I ain't no stranger When the Shaq is in the house - "O my god, danger!"
[Verse 4: Rakim]
It's an invite to the courtside, get your game right (?) not quite, it's nothin' of game tight When I'm in flight, it makes me and Shaq the same height Spark some mics, it's game time - aight I turn colosseums into mausoleums of players Who teams can't redeem themselves and try to spray us Pain and stress, we do the same near the ref I bet that I remain in the game of death