[Verse One: Q-Unique]   Enter the bragin, Q-Leechan from the providence of hip-hop   Do bodily damage like a combination kick-chop   Teacher Sifu Herc and Sensei Bambaatasan   Since I've studied techniques just to drop the kata bomb   With Jeet Kune flow, way of the intercepting rhyme   Battle to the last breath or till my adversary declines   I've trained in weapons, mic chucks and deadly spinning vinyl   The drunk munk breathing aerosol till I'm a krylon wino   Unorthodox over traditional I may condone it   Respectfully bow but never take your eyes off your opponent   Square off as I mentally prepare in my rap stance   Defeat is a Buddah opportunity 'cause that's a fat chance   You write the white belt and flow slow like Tai Chi   I'm like Freddie Fox(xx) possessed by the dragon, y'all won't fight me   Your side kicks don't move me, and seem to have no flavor left   So I drop the flow Kashugi and have them all pray for death   Train till the sample's done. flip with weight like Samo Hung   No need to handle guns, watch and see me make this mammal run   At the end of it all, I'll retire undefeated   Live by the mountain side and write a book of Five Rings for you to read it      [Chorus 2x: Q-Unique]   Training, balance   Focus, challenge   Meditate, silence   Skill, talent   Broken patterns   Have a seat and play your part   You must learn to accept defeat   "Check my language arts"      [Verse Two: Q-Unique]   (Ha ha ha ha ha..)   We meet again young Choy   I will now take you down with the six steps of b-boy   There is no way you'll overcome my 1200 turning techniques   or take out my pen-fist punchlines, your beginner styles are too weak   My fat cap burner kicks'll go over your toy throw-ups   You have a lot of guts, I'm even suprised you showed up   but still.. we'll write fight to the first strike or rhyme battle to the very end   And if I am to die, my loyal students will take the revenge   Direct confrontation with Grandmaster number seven   Push past and catch a blast from my right fist of legend   In a kombat with mortals I play the part of Lui Kang   Confuse you like Manderan slang and balance out the hip-hop like Yin Yang   Chasing fallen rap monks till they run far   Have me resort to animal instincts like Hung Gar and Flung a ninja star   Aimed at the head of an A&R white belt whose fight felt unskilled   Surrounded by a class of records execs and got them killed   Taste my own blood a lash out in a rage   My 'bo staff' is the microphone stand, my 'dojo' is the stage   It's the year of the Q, mark that on your calendar   A double clap at the end of the battle means bring on the next challenger      (Chorus 4x)