Artist: Indigenous Tribe f/ Killarmy
Album:  Anatomy of Destruction EP
Song:   War Games
Typed by: Tha Masta

[Intro: Dom Pachino (I.T. #1)]
Yeah, Killarmy (Rats of the universe)
Live from Shaolin (Stranga, son)
Just arrived in Michigan, Detroit, son (Yeah, the City Commitee)
Word (Nothing but love, Killa Beez, yo..)
Yo, yo.. (Wu-Tang Killa Beez, yo..)
Yo, yo.. (Yo, yo..)

[Dom Pachino (I.T. #1)]
Load a cartridge of it, Terrorist the author of it (Uh)
Got the bottles in the cupboard, Bees bubbling in my stomach
Here come it, one of the illest, trust me on this
If not, you see that ice disappear from your wrist
And your screwface off in a bucket of piss
My tongue twist, when I spit rhymes like roller coasters
Screaming "Oh David!", for overdosers
Got the bitch's lips imprinted on my posters
Terrorist the soldier, over and out, out and over
Never soaked in it, tinted Range Rover
4.6 max like cobra, cash like Oprah, more hungrier than a vulture
Fake niggas (More hungrier than a vulture)

[Indigenous Tribe #1]
Check, check..
It's the end of an era, the dawn of a new millenium
The mind of Minolta with the power of a Pentium
The emerging of the rebel forces
Marching from the underground with mics and cordless torches
We won't be denied, we tried to take our pride
We've gone on a path and for 20 years we've survived
When we're fighting for a land that we once command
We're being banned for holding evidence and taking a stand
Against corportate America, commercialising the way we live
Taking your share but even more than we can give
And we'll still live in a world that's controlled with the evil
With the government, elects the president and not the people

[Indigenous Tribe #2 (I.T. #1)]
Who's the slave?
Camouflage my face in a place that surrounds me
AK-8's, inner streets bleed
Like knuckles when I'm hitting in this Jungle made of Concrete
A quiet riot, discrete
Breaking the silence with sirens, following a crime from violence
Undeveloped fetus wrapped in sheets, our babies are dying
Not enough niggas are ready for war
Grenades and triggas, there's mashed up bodies, pillage and scorn
Niggas is torn from dodging deficits (Killa Beez, dope Killa Beez)

[Killa Sin (I.T. #3)]
Yo, Indigenous Tribe set fire to mics like live wires
Killarm' general staff blast in any cypher (Detroit to Shaolin
Shaolin, the war begins, Detroit to Shaolin, war begins)
Yo, live MC, last of the dying breed, travelling East
Never satisfied, spitting until my cypher's complete
Eat beast like tigers to meat, we're built for this shit
Traitors got killed for this shit, that's why we don't sleep
How many times we gotta tell y'all snakes to wake the fuck up?
How many fake fleece does it take for us to shake up?
Trained for the day that Killarm' break up
We caking up, your wife be shaking her butt, giving up guts (What?)
Slangs based up, PaChino got a tape in the truck (What?)
Trying to play us, he trying to blaze us? We taking bucks

[9th Prince]
Eh-yo, we blaze the stimulation, Detroit destination
Underground operation, street starvation
Shell Shock hip-hop, on the rooftop
Dustheads busting at the cops, 2 blocks from the water spot
I reveal, Shoot to Kill for my solo deal
Dirty Weaponry concealed like blue steel
All plastic objects, grimy like Dirty South projects
Unusual Suspects, embrace his arm with a Tec
Killarm', we take y'all respect, throw a hex
Fertilize family ties
Killa Beez, Wu-Mountain, it's the Bee Hive