Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bruce Lee, artist - Planet Asia. Album song Black Belt Theatre, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 27.02.2012
Record label: Greenstreets Entertainment
Song language: English
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) |