Kung Fu

[Verse 1: Kamackeris]
You get your
Spine split, dome piece knocked off
Popped off. Y’all niggas done rocked off
My nigga Kong done told you before
Don’t say shit if you ain’t really down to brawl
We got it all. Fuck Paul, Peter
We got the heater. The next bleeder, they fabricate
You marinate. In every state
Who hold weight that circulate? You’re too late, terminate
Ain’t miss a beat, style I speak. Half of y’all
Meek, weak, your balls incomplete
Put you in a box to detox
I’ll Iverson your ass in Reeboks
Better yet, Dr. J you with the Converse
Your neck’s burst, you the worst
Nigga, you ain’t a bona fide figure
So what you gonna do? It ain’t nothing but kung fu

[Verse 2: Kwest]
Ha! Now take
Your best shot. Kwest got skills considered sacred
Fan away your hands like Neo moving in The Matrix. I know
Kung fu, moves can kill, cripple, or stun you
Calmly disarm you if you bring a knife or gun fu. In my brain
Time slows yet I’m hitting your frame pronto
Diminish your skills, moving like video game combos
Feel the agony of defeat physically and literally
Roundhouse kick to your cheek will quickly get rid of your teeth
Can’t keep up with you guard plus your ego getting scarred
My one-inch punch will knock that ass back about a yard
Hard to keep breathing, non-believing, the beating you’re
Receiving, you’ll feel your consciousness leaving
And I haven’t even broken a sweat. Please sit
Down, dude. I could have been broken your neck. Now peace
Brethren. Realize you’ve been taught a valuable lesson
A sharp mind makes your whole body an F-ing weapon

[Verse 3: Kev Roc]
As usually, suspects [?]
Fuck him as he frown, firm right hand [?]
Sighted through my Ras Kass scheme [?]
Mic strike center mass, bottleneck silhouette
Katana, a motherfucking marksman of rhyme
Silent on his Hill, can descend without a sign
Put strife into hyphen, knife to send a lifer
Dear God, inform of this wack American cypher
So hard when he hardly illing ever oddly
Beat-seeking mystics deliver rhyme with the car key
Deep shit like bat guano
Be the verbal bludgeoning waiting just around your corner
So more the well-acquainted [?] ‘cause
I spit and leave wild niggas palbable buzz
Beginning with me sinning, you spin it as I rock, create
Rhyme with the seed of its own kind within it
Popping in the mic a PA and pull it off and impress
And publicly addressing the passive-aggressive
Kev Roc, I fill this chalice with a bitter malice
Leaving tracks calloused as I’m thick and foulest

[Verse 4: King Cesar]
Yeah
I start fires in the motherfucker forest
And fuck Goldilocks for her bowl of porridge
I’m the illest ever seen with a gold chain
I can’t explain why you niggas looking so lame
It’s no game ‘cause there’s no competition here
Please shut the fuck up, son, and listen here
I grab the mic like rhyming is my birthright
And beat that pussy up like Tyson in his first fight
You don’t rehearse right, you young and you thirst Sprite
Light in the ass like that white girl from last night
You young fool, that shit don’t become you
I’ll son you, haven’t even begun to punk you
Niggas amongst you about to microphone check
One, two with a fistful of kung fu