Bruce Lee
I got the baddest Fists of Fury that the world ever saw
Defeat whole karate schools and motherf**ers with claws
How could you talk more sh** with my fist in your jaw?
Don't need words to serve ya, I'mma just say, "Watah"
Your movies, they bore us, they're slow as a tortoise
I'm the king of nunchuks, I f**ed up Chuck Norris
I invented Jeet Kune Do, so taste my slipper shoe
Here's my two finger push-up, kung F U
Clint Eastwood
You scream like a girl and got moves like Jagger
But I'll rip through your a** faster than a pu pu platter
You're in the gym too much, Ringo, perfecting kicks
You should spend more time matching your voice up to your lips
You don't belong in a fight, you belong in a sweatshop, so go ahead, make my iPod
Those little dances you do don't threaten me, Bruce
f** you, dude, I even squint better than you
Bruce Lee:
I beat the good and the bad, you must be the ugly
I would mess up your face but your momma did it for me
Go tug your pistol for a fist full of your million dollar babies
You were cool in the eighties, maybe, but now you're just crazy
A man who argues with people who aren't even there
Is more fit to rap against this f**ing chair
Clint Eastwood
Do you feel lucky punk? That's what I'm asking
You can't be too tough; you got k**ed by an aspirin
And your one inch punch; same size as your pecker
Leave the rapping to me, stick to Chinese checkers
I'd beat you in round two but that'd be unbelievable
No one in your family ever lives to see a sequel