"The Fight Club" as written by and Pallo Emille Peacock Michael Taylor Perretta....


"The Fight Club" scratched

I paint pictures with my scriptures
it grabs ya and it grips ya
and takes ya on adventures to dimensions I can't
even begin to explain
I tantalize your senses with sentences
since it's senseless to attempt this
my plan to rise is endless
i'm generally known to be off the hinges
with a microphone with me
ya want to fight? come on hit me,
I ain't gon stop beating that ass until the cops come get me
refuse verbal abuse to cook your goose
I serve superb turbulence, when I get loose
the beat get battered and bruised you nerds get hit
from every direction after the herb gets lit
who want to come? can test me now let's get down
(get on up) and get the mess beat outta you pesky clown ass
pathetic competitors won't last around
after I blast a round, at ya casket
cats get disfigured and eat a fist
fuckin with this nigga when I'm pissed
and even when I'm feelin bliss
it'll be an unworthy risk
to disturb me 'cause I'm impervious to the words you speak
I split nucleus's when I shoot the gift
it's ridiculous to dispute me if
you don't want to shoot me, just watch me do my duty
my rap slaps your ear like sticks, pucks and hockey
I don't give a big fuck at all
about all your jewelry and tomfoolery
you can get the balls
if you don't want to be cool with me we can brawl
we do it every weekend y'all, at the fight club

CHORUS
the fight club
I hit em up like, what
first rule on your first night,
you gotta fight
just insert the mic plugs
you got the right ones,
if you want to fight come
show your guns at the
fight club
I hit em up like, what
first rule on your first night,
you gotta fight
just insert the mic plugs
you got the right ones,
if you want to fight come

pump ya fist and resist the system
I insist the gist of this consist of wisdom
catechism??
we can have a collision and go at it to add to the mission
poetical fisticuffs, I spit to crush the shit you bust
you don't want to get in the pit with us
we gladiators of the third eye variety
you can be mad and hate us, or ride with me
I flow, toe to toe blow for blow
the collective objective, is to overthrow
we soldiers here to let the poor folks know
imperialists get the fist and the po-po get the dick
the serioiusness of this gets me furious
when I hear ignorance spit by my peers
I guess that's why I'm here
to change up this strange stuff in the coming years
my plan's to put hands on my people in the trance
so they can understand what really makes a man strong
convictions, with no restrictions I inflict them
to the beat of a kick drum
you want some? step up and get some
scuff knees and elbows when P-L flows
to speak to y'all or we can brawl
we do it every weekend y'all, at the fight club!

CHORUS
the fight club
I hit em up like, what
first rule on your first night,
you gotta fight
just insert the mic plugs
you got the right ones,
if you want to fight come
show your guns at the
fight club
I hit em up like, what
first rule on your first night,
you gotta fight
just insert the mic plugs
you got the right ones,
if you want to fight come

scratching


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"The Fight Club" as written by Pallo Emille Peacock Michael Taylor Perretta

Lyrics © THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.

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The Fight Club song meanings
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