Arsonists - Language Arts lyrics

Enter the bragin
Q-Leechan from the providence of Hip-Hop
Do bodily damage like a combination kick-chop
Teacher Sifu Herc and Sensei Bambaatasan
Since I've studied techniques just to
Drop the kata bomb with Jeet Kune flow
Way of the intercepting rhyme
Battle to the last breath or
Till my adversary declines
I've trained in weapons
Mic chucks and deadly spinning vinyl
The drunk monk breathing aerosol till
I'm a krylon wino
Unorthodox over traditional I may condone it
Respectfully bow but never take your
Eyes off your opponent
Square off as I mentally prepare
In my rap stance
Defeat is a Buddah opportunity cause
That's a fat chance
You write the white belt and
Flow slow like Tai Chi
I'm likeFreddie Foxxx possessed
By the dragon, y'all won't fight me
Your side kicks don't move me
And seem to have no flavor left
So I drop the flow Kosugi and
Have them all pray for death
Train till the sample's done flip
With weight like Sammo Hung
No need to handle guns
Watch and see me make this mammal run
At the end of it all, I'll retire undefeated
Live by the mountain side and write a book
Of Five Rings for you to read it

Training, balance focus, challenge
Meditate, silence skill, talent
Broken patterns
Have a seat and play your part
You must learn to except defeat
"Check my language arts"

(Ha ha ha ha ha) we meet again young Choy
I will now take you down with
The six steps of b-boy
There is no way you'll overcome
My 1200 turning techniques
Or take out my pen-fist punchlines
Your beginner styles are too weak
My fat cap burner kicks'll go
Over your toy throw-ups
You have a lot of guts
I'm even suprised you showed up but still
We'll write fight to the first strike or
Rhyme battle to the very end
And if I am to die
My loyal students will take the revenge
Direct confrontation with Grandmaster
Number seven
Push past and catch a blast from
My right fist of legend
In a kombat with mortals I play
The part of Lui Kang
Confuse you like Mandarin slang
And balance out the Hip-Hop like Yin-Yang
Chasing fallen rap monks till they run far
Have me resort to animal
Instincts like Hung Gar
And flung a ninja star aimed at
The head of an A&R
White belt whose fight felt unskilled
Surrounded by a class of records
Execs and got them killed
Taste my own blood a lash out in a rage
My 'bo staff' is the microphone stand
My 'dojo' is the stage
It's the year of the Q
Mark that on your calendar
A double clap at the end of the
Battle means bring on the next challenger