[Intro: The RZA]
Yo, it's a Samurai Showdown
Samurai Showdown...
Aight, I Ching Yang, how dare you challenge me
You will die from the tip of my sword today
Huh, the trenches, we must remain calm
Right, prepare to die

[Chorus: The RZA]
Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
Yo, it's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords

[Verse 1: The RZA]
Yo, yo, yo hailing from the slums of Shaolin, golden claw, talon twirlin'
One swirl of the fatal sword splits your eyelid
Wu Killa Beez stinger back on The Swarm again
BZZZZZZ, the alarm again
Six direction weapon deflecting
Bones connect like opposite sides of magnets
Steel fragments being chipped off a slinging sword slash
With the force of being crashed through your dashboard with no airbag
He drove a 99 Jaguar
Quick to pick a lock, lick a shot, respect the Bloods and Crips a lot
Plus the god for wide sagging in the seat, blasting Wu beats
Tryna plot his next hit he took a drag
Of the eight elements that composed, atmospheric gas
'Bout to let off his sword and full blast
He kept his mind focused, meditation position half lotus
Abbot's sword novas couldn't match his magnum opus
Deluxe stroke, son moved like a ghost
Struck in an instance, unnoticed like a lamp post
Radar sharp precision gunfire, explode
Till his clips unload, it's the samurai code
[Chorus]
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
Time for everyone to go record
It's born-born, young Lord, raise your swords
Time for everybody to go record

[Verse 2: The RZA]
Crept in silent, the steel wind
Chrome silencers screwed on tight kept the gunshots just sealed in
We attack, full fledge
With Chicago Bull red bandanas tied tight around our heads
Swing with the force of a sledge
Single-edge stainless steel blade chopped the wedge
Slit this analog derelicts head, who even thought that
He could go against the truth and the gods and fall back?
From the will of Allah, you'll be facing the firing squad
Of a thousand archers out to mark ya
The bill top scully king block bullets like jelly beans
Birds in my nest resting up on the tele scene
Murderous rap track to me, is ego felony
Can't accept what you analog cats be telling me
I get the verbal weapon, won't hesitate for one second
To break your back like Big Jack from Tekken
[Chorus]
It's Born-Born, young Lord so raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords
It's Born-Born, young Lord, raise your swords