"Duel Of The Iron Mic" as written by Robert F. Diggs, Gary E. Grice, Herbert Magidson, Allie Wrubel and Russell T. Jones....
Picture bloodbaths and elevator shafts
Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft
Check the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings
Slow moving mc's is waitin for the editin
The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry
A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry
Herbal vapors, and biblical papers
Smokin exodus, every square yard is plush
Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions facial expression
Leaves impressions, try to keep a shark nigga guessin
Give crazy shouts son here's the outcome
Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss
Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of sterlings
Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored shearlings
I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides
On July 4th in bed-stuy
Where money don't grown on trees and there's thievin mc's
Who cut-throat to rake leaves
They can't breathe, blood splash, rushin fast
Like runnin rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver

Duel of the iron mic, it's the fifty-two fatal strikes!

This is not a eighty-five affair, made clear
When the gods get on to perform storms blew up
Wu's up, causin the crowd to self-destruct
Killer bees are stingin somethin while I reveal
Science, that's heavily guarded by the culprit
Bombin your barracks, with aerodynamic
Swordplay, poison darts by the doorway
Minds that's laced with explosive doses
Damagin lyrical launcher
Lunge at the youthful offender then injure
Any contender, testin the murderous master
Could lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts
Explode through your barrier, rips the retina
Who can withstand the astonishing punishing
Stings to the sternum, shocked in the hip-hop livestock
Seekin for a serum, to cure em

Adults kill for drugs plus the young bucks bust
Duckin handcuffs, throats get cut when dough rush
Out of town foes look shook but still pose
We move lioke real pros through the streets we stroll
Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six oh
So control the avenues that's the dream that's sold
Building lobbies are graveyards for small-timers
Bitches caught in airports, keys in they vaginas
No peace, yo the police mad corrupt
You get bagged up, dependin if you're passin the cut
Plus shorty's not a shorty no more, he's livin heartless
Regardless of the charges, claims to be the hardest
Individual, critical thoughts, criminal minded
Blinded by illusion, findin it confusin

Duel of the iron mics
It's that fifty-two fatal strikes
Duel of the iron mics
It's that fifty-two fatal strikes, nuh


Lyrics submitted by Shep420

"Duel of the Iron Mic" as written by Allie Wrubel Herbert Magidson

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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Duel Of The Iron Mic song meanings
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4 Comments

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  • 0
    General CommentThey actually say "rapiant heights" in the outro, but I have no idea what "rapiant" means...

    This song plays out to me like a graphic novel. There is perfect production on this track, like when the drum beat is lifted only to return after the classic line ending with "keys in the vaginas" and right before another classic line...

    Masta Killa's verse is kind of pale in comparison to GZA's, but being sandwhiched in between the Genius was the way to go. He even had a good line with "Lunge at the youthful offender then injure
    any contender, testin’ the murderous Master
    could lead to disaster". What keeps him interesting is his alliteration.
    Shep420on July 14, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General Commentit's "olympian hights"
    camchristieon December 02, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentI thought he said, "I had forgotten, will you show me", not "By the gods"
    Awhislyleon February 15, 2007   Link
  • 0
    General CommentAnyone know where the sample is from?
    Awhislyleon February 07, 2010   Link

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