Sangtekst: Cappadonna. Pump Your Fist.

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 Killa 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 fuck you thought, we was given support?
Live from Beatdown, Shaolin success, bypass 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, Killa Bamz
I pack the dart gun hate to see
Another death in the fam, uhh, yeah, what

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

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 jewel
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
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

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
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit

Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
Pump up your fist
If you love this shit