Punch Out

* set to the beat of Mike Tyson's Punch Out for the NES [Michael Buffer] Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls Let's get ready to rumble! [Tek] You got me lock, more flavors to drop Once me bust, no shots we take bop Burns they gun, done cheffed up they block Smokey Lah get what's in the dead rock We like what fire, when shots fire You say your eye bust buyin then we aim higher Never retire, I'mma street cyer When your ten boys are dead, even more fire [Steele] Nigga we all timers, all you niggas are small timers With alziners, Tek n Steele the lost rhymers Chart climbers, start drama, spark ganja Affiliated with deep scholars and street mobsters New York's an author, Notorious like Big Poppa Cuz I know killas that'll leave you missing like Hoffa You cat's are imposters, we show rockers Cloak poppers, show Glocks off and turn to show stoppers Chorus: Steele You rappers can't even hang with me Can't handle the game like me Get on the blaze, cuz on the shame and sweat Do it for days, it ain't no thing for me, nigga You rappers can't even match with us Can't handle the track like us Don't know a man that can stand with us And no game, you rappers can't handle us [Xun Tsu] Ain't no motherfuckin thing changed, it's Xun Tsu The same cat that loved to lick shots at your crew, I'm back New tactics, new plans, Xun Tsu dented shit like the Son of Sam It's mask murder, this industry ain't seen nothin yet We blood thirsty, niggas best protect they neck Xun Tsu, and my military you get wicked like voodoo Hittin em up, take two Never assimilated, I'm not a Blood but affiliated Weed smoke keeps me stimulated Who you been with, see my niggas I sent with It's scared in the same room, next bed shit Is you bout it, words quotable so don't doubt it Got soldiers that'll have you moved out and re-routed My infantry got you runnin like El Nino For cats that bust nine-millies and quattro cinquos Chorus 1/2 [Michael Buffer] From New York city, New York Wearing the red trunks with yellow trim And weighing in at 120 pounds [The Most Talented] Ya try to pull a roll on my eyes, imagine that I pity the itty and livin the lie The all I seein, Most gon peep it all in the game And show mistake made dog, cuz you and two are the same Never that, now who be the one that spray for the fool You know the name punk, body up in I.C.U It's how y'all do, to be hold to feel the wrath of the lord And little fame god, your soul trapped off in the morgue Mess around, you thought you was smart but I can forsee Anythin an imbecile try to hide it to sleep Believe me, I know the rules and I'm on to you You smile at me, but I'm hip to the things you do You feel the flame, and leave a mark symbolizin my name The Most Talented but known to leave a rapper in pain You the amateur, try to score a point on the champ The lone soldier be the Most, run a muck in ya camp Game Over, uh [Tek] You the lyrics from my mother flucker, shots from my bun Lyrics from the mother fluck like a nuclear bomb See me come and lady dance with me, chris and one And the con underneath made it drink after one Chorus 2X