bloodsport pt. ii - arthouse fire lyrics
i was a child writing sonnets, acquiring higher knowledge
while you fuccbois couldn’t grow up with hydroponics-
you marks better tuck in your chain and hide your wallets
if not, you put your shine on the line like fiber optics-
(high exalted) the man of the final hour
try to flip the script and i’m climbing behind the counter-
the only way that i drop it’s like eisenhower
cause the radio’s been ticking me off; no geiger counter-
my fire power scorches sh-t like in the torture skit
i can take you out of this world as quick as morpheus-
form a first and send an mc-fly’in back
cause his delorean’s the only one to make a fire track-
i treat a cypher with cats like milf huntin’
those p-ssies can claim that they’re tight till i fist f-ck ‘em-
so keep sniffin’ my lines; my sh-t’s bumpin’
these lips spit out more pies than a brick oven-
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