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