Solomon Childs - Pump Your Fist lyrics

[k**a Bamz] Uhh, yeah, what, uhh, yeah Darts of armored warfare, Deep the rhyme Caprice Deep in levels, alibi havin rebel could play This competition for pounds in the state of permission Conversation bout this kid k**a Bamz You want defense, man to man, location Shaolin New York It ain't nuthin to talk or walk Get dark son, economic times to fault Style is mangohead stagnated from soft What the f** you thought, we was given support? Live from Beatdown, Shaolin success, bypa** the rest Move sixty deep, Dutch with the charm One hundred, twenty arms, designed to unleash bombs Holdin dart guns in palms One hundred divine cyphers, k**a Bamz I pack the dart gun hate to see another d**h in the fam Uhh, yeah, what Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** [Tekitha] Y'all confused and amusing, transfusion I'm bruising Meth-Tical illusions, salutin my blade Tongue blade of fury, nurse the wound leary weary Teary fear me, clearly, the pearl drop Time stop, holdin shop, shockwave be brave Ghetto came style is maim out to lunch Out to crunch munch rhyme foods, my life reflect the j**el My life control the cruise, ten deadly touches too Grip the Dutches move, swing rough to cut ya Is the one to seek philosophy in crutches You disbelieve, in the T Truth Equal King Islam Truth Heard Alive, TEKITHA Bust the cypher on the Gods, bust the cypher on the Gods Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** [Cappadonna] Vanglorious darts, brown skinned with the pen Pioneer shift from the beginning to the end Whatever I do, y'all imitate -- try to come close But can't come straight; I branch out Terrorize scenes, split tracks, split hats Bare facts, guns, crazy funds, a thousand sons That'll rain on your gang, you're too plain My dope is uncut, high level high like a plane Bigger bite bigger mic underground beneath these streets W-T-C, leaky leak Time meet, Chi meet, ain't nuttin sweet Pakistan, Iran clan is like Christ Word to Poltergeist, smash every tape Deep thoughter, out of order, off Seven thirty, bugged like psycho from the Bronx Wild like fat pen child to be the rap Lawrence Martin Eyes like lills, mescaline pills Three bills worth of darts, pump the heart Bottom of the chart, slug art closin you in once again It's the all time great, demonstrate, vocabulary execution Executive approachin, Tang a demonstration Pillage Incorporated, first place A thai clean like a plant, eight time writer champ Lamp on the beatbreak, camp on verses Cheat on producers, men go working Rhymes make a mill-in, born Park Hill'n Internal lyrics, expose the profane Vote for Cappadonna and your whole life'll change Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh** Pump up your fist (3X) if you love this sh**