Unspoken Word

RZA

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RZA

Robert Fitzgerald Diggs (born July 5, 1969), better known by his stage name Rza ( /ˈrɪzə/ RIZ-ə; usually styled RZA), is an American Grammy-winning music producer, multi-instrumentalist, author, emcee, and occasional actor, director, and screenwriter. A prominent figure in hip hop, Rza is the de facto leader of the Wu-Tang Clan. He has produced almost all of Wu-Tang Clan's albums as well as many Wu-Tang solo and affiliate projects. He has also released solo albums under the alter-ego Bobby Digital, along with executive producing credits for side projects. In addition to the Wu-Tang Clan and his solo releases, Rza was also a founding member of the horrorcore Hip Hop group Gravediggaz where he used the name The Rzarector. Furthermore, he has acted in several mo… more »


Year:
1998
4:44
631 
#5

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Chorus: 

Yo  yo it's the unspoken word 
You not heard  get your brains open 
Controlled emotions freewill 
as the same token 
Keep a sword tucked sharp inside your personal 
We can bust a shot or we can bust a verse or two 

[Bobby Digital] 
Word's on the street Dunn Dunn Bobby's goin Digital 
Hoverin the city inside the Wonder Woman's invisible jet 
Clouded by the Meth we move undetected 
in secret society sects, NARC's radar 
suspected us to be a cumulus cloud, ejectin lightning 
Strikin like a wild knuckle fight, in New Brighton 
A million strands of spider webs weaved to make my vest 
The energy compacted deep within, my inner chest 
One touch of my eagle claw clutch, rips your guts 
Brass head kill you fast with a rapid, head bust 
Ninjas spyin, the ammo flyin, the steel iron 
Blow a nigga neck from his head, like dandelions 
My team is a magazine of M-16's 
But we calmly, defeat your army, by blowin steam 
Noisy as a thousand barkin dogs, rap's sweat hogs 
Welcome back to the catalogue, hip-hop cyborg 
Bobby Digital, keyboard clogged bitch you analog 
We blowin smoke creatin Scooby Doo fogs 
Escape cell block eight's my tape on the rocks 
Sean Connery, calmly bombin MC's, who stuck on my phenomenon 
Word up, no hurry up, for the merrier 
You worry Duck, you get touched by the razor cut 
You feel the flurry huh, don't worry yo 
You get cut by the razor, yo, yo, yo yo 

The Wu rag tied around your head, like a doo rag 
Carry large black guns in small school bags 
Funeral date, will be engraved on the wall, in roman numerals 
The Looney Tune niggaz I be rollin with, be screwin you 
Quick to make a nigga shit in his pants, with one glance 
Laid back like a fat Huffy bike, on the kickstands 
My Clan'll make the most hardrock chump turn to glass 
and shatter, leave no traces of your matter 
You kids playin hot feet, wait til you go to sleep I pull your teeth 
I'm vegetarian BITCH, I don't need the beef 
So how I spell relief? Ruler Z, Arm Leg Leg Arm Head 
B.O.B.B.Y. 
You don't qualify 
You don't have supply 
It's a natural high 

Chorus 

It's Bobby Digital, word you can't ridicule 
We see a snake in the garden, we get rid of you 

(Bobby you be on that bullshit) ALL THE TIME 
(With them big words and shit) I FREE Y'ALL NIGGAZ MINDS 
(What the f*ck you think you are some king or somethin 
Motherfucker you ain't shit, high profilin) 

Yo, yo, my enemies of the Killa Bee Clan's founds their peers 
Buried for a thousand years, or drowned in tears 
My unpredictable lyrics straight, and spine tingling 
like slime from a baby's mouth, bitch niggaz you be lingerin 
Bobby bobs panties from bitches with big asses 
(Bobby you be buggin!) Girl my mind flashes 
My seeds be royal, niggaz sweat muslim oil 
My Earth gave birth to the fertile crescent soil 
No time for fragile planet for small wombs 
My dick bust a universe, my nuts weigh a moon, stay in tune 
Champagne thoughts with Bud Light money, blunts dipped in honey 
Digital, make the gloomiest day feel sunny 
Slang slides slashes for him plan record upon the Lord 
Confuse you like a forty-eight track mixboard 
Milli phaser blast a hole in your back the size of moon craters 
These anti-crucified on my Technic crossfader 
F*ck the bloodshed, you be leakin your soul 
Physical mental emotion we will control 
Infinite darts I apply to your back, like horse brandin 
I clear a thousand men with a jaw of an assbone, black Samson 

Chorus 

It's Bobby Digital, word you can't ridicule 
See a snake in the garden, we get rid of you 
Slimy savages, against the Digital 
F*ck you Analog, the shit is critical 

Chorus 

Bobby Digital, word you can't ridicule 
See a snake in the garden, we get rid of you 
You slimy savages, shit is gettin critical 
F*ck you Analog niggaz we be Digital 

Bobby Digital 
Word up f*ck that (Bobby Digital!)

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Written by: ROBERT F. DIGGS

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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