Lyrics Bruce Lee - Planet Asia, Chace Infinite, Rasco

Bruce Lee

(Oh shit!
‘State, Aiyo that’s Bruce Lee, my nigga!
Aiyo, Bruce!
Aiyo, shit that nigga got an afro too, my dude
(That's really motherfuckin' Bruce Lee!)
Aiyo, I knew yo' ass wasn’t dead, my nigga!
Teach me some shit… move my chi
Fuck one of you niggas up…)
Yo
Back in your section, everything goes in this battle
Chinatown wars, Chinese connection
Comic book Coogi color, cloth kente
Five Percent-ey, avenge the death of the sensei
Break out the bad guy, so I can kill ‘em with styles
I’ve been honing my craft so long I got spiderwebs on my blend tapes
In shape like a ape, fresh off the Himalyan mountains
Wylin' off bananas and grapes
Cop diesel, OG Bubba and Sour Diesel
Skies burn, ‘cause nigga it’s my turn like Steezo
Steady-B mentality, cool seek propositions
It’s for my killas in the streets without a pot to piss in
Don divas, calm leaders, beyond eager
Golden glove thugs, bob and weavers
You just a non-believer that’s hating, ‘cause I done hit
Every House of Blues, the only thing left is coliseums
Another loose leaf, who’s chief?
Give you a two-piece
To the beat
This is Bruce Lee!
(Jeet-Kune-Do, mother fuckers!
Get yourself fucked up coming around here!
Murder one of y’all niggas, man!)
Righteous roundhouse, Deathblow dojo
King of the dumb-out, I’m on my Bruce Lee mojo
Breaking bricks there’s money to get
Or get your money stripped
We revolve around scientists
Another looseleaf, who’s chief?
Give you the two-piece
No biscuit, nigga
Bruce Lee
(Nigga, that is not no Bruce Lee, that’s Jim Kelly, man!)
Chop suey, you’re andouille, ya backflip
Double stack grip, play games, smash shit
Cartoons get smacked soon, we black goons
Get in tune, these niggas soft like sand dunes
Cats get it, they bowing down, the god spit it
The odd digit is seven, dog, you last minute
Stay ahead of these wack lames, exact range
Pointed right at your eyeball, we fly y’all
Better look to the sky y’all we up there
Roll a Benz, you ask mama for bus fare
In the plush where, you really should rush there
Burn your whole click, leave nothing but dust there
Just the tip of the iceberg, we still cold
Smash dudes and take it out of their billfold
(What the fuck is wrong niggas, I’mma kill you niggas)
Righteous roundhouse, Deathblow dojo
King of the dumb-out, I’m on my Bruce Lee mojo
Breaking bricks there’s money to get
Or get your money stripped
We revolve around scientists
Another looseleaf, who’s chief?
Give you the two-piece
No biscuit, nigga
Bruce Lee
Fly as a falcon in a cockpit
Flying cranes, guillotines
Breaking down K’s with chopsticks
Obnoxious African arts, nigga my reflex sharp
I roundhouse Abdul-Jabar
I achieve doctrines, Wu shu postures
Two-piece, backhand niggas with no problem
Master of any street you know
Come see the Jeet-Kune Do
Iron fist lunge, lethal blow
Every nigga on the street should know
‘Cuh-razy, not karate', putting holes in your body
You tough niggas is the first to get shot in the party
While I’m smoking like the samurai, Afro
Taking heads, discipline my enemies
Fuck that, I paint the town red
With the remains of y’all
Really it’s not a game at all
Bruce Lee, nigga, sweat suit, gold chain and all
(That's some heavy shit
Let me explain something to you, Super Nigga
I don’t answer questions, I ask ‘em
Even if I did know who killed that jive-ass brother of yours
What make you think I’m going to tell you?
Get your black ass, off of my joint
Before we beat you, like a rented mule)