{Oh, mad one, we see your trap   You can never escape, your fate   Submit with honor to a duel, with my son   I agree   I see you using an old style   I wondered where you had learned it from   Even I wondered too   You know very well, it's yours too   Yo God, it's a duel, it's a duel   Heh, by the Gods, will you show me?   Buck buck buck buck buck buck   And where do you come for?   Duel of the Iron Mic   You come here, since you're so interested   Duel of the Iron Mic   Fight me   In the moonlight niggaz I will strike   What, what? Bring it}      Yo   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nigga guessin'   Give crazy shouts, "Son, here's the outcome"   Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss      Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings   Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored Shearlings   I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides   On July 4th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   (You're quite good)   It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!   (You should tell him to take the same technique)      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 like real pros through the streets we stroll      Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six-o   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 mic's   (The master, he must be dreaming, heh)   It's that fifty-two fatal strikes   (Well, if he is dreaming)      Duel of the iron mic's   (Then he must be asleep)   It's that fifty-two fatal strikes, nuh   (And if he is asleep)   (Then I will wake him up)      {At the height of their fame and glory, they turned on one another   Each struggling in vain for ultimate supremacy   In the passion and depth of their struggle   They very art, that had raised them   Through such rapiant heights was lost   Their techniques, vanished}