gotta be defensive with your life You gotta be like Bush and take pre-emptive strikes And the boys from the hood are always hard Let alone in Mogadishu it's a mastered art
It's in the air of New York So everybody'll pick em up, kissin em up Treatin' them like they own, in dis hood we call home Fist fight till we grown and
over my head There?s an art to falling down Hey hey I got a message for ya You?re gonna blow it girl Stuck in your little world Fight fight till we
my own worst enemy Knock me down I'll keep on moving It's the art of losing Wahhhooo (It's the art of losing) Wahhhooo (It's the art of losing)
You wear me You're not always You're not always right A new fight for a last rite A new fight for a last rite You can fight a new fight You can fight
wonder why I'm In love with love, in love with a passionate heart In love with love, in love with the form of the art We love through the fighting of
never too late for that lovin my sexy babe I used to cry but now I have to laugh because she?s got that torment to a fine art smart like a foxy and
[Chorus:] Cause everybody is Kung Fu Fighting Your mind becomes fast as lightning Although the future is a little bit frightening It's the book of your
The devil only knows of this world So dark and oh so cold, it's oh so cold, oh so cold, oh [Chorus:] Soon as my flow starts I compose art like the ghost
bastard I ain't wanna have to diss ya Canabis, where the fuck you at? I miss ya! [Chorus] Can-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch Where for art thou Can-i-bitch?
you are Where the lights are Through a million days through a million hazy nights We sit amusing in our politics Through wine and talk through sex and art
I need rest, but I boogie for now, I'm on some mess like the best mics respond to me Living days, like dreams of specializing in the art that pays I be
blues Miscellaneous shoes everywhere "Yo Mase, what happened here?" ("Go Brooklyn!") Yo Brooklyn, y'all know the rules Bump ?? people and out come the tools Ain't been a fair fight
I have The Word You people got me good Increase my life Keep my people prayerful Echoing, beckoning me What makes me fight with my brother we love
next block of green vine amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art
