Boom Boom Pow

you're so high you can't count your own fingers C'mon, we all now that's a dead ringer I won't let this linger I'm the winner, go figure Get a taste of my vice It's full of bad advice So no more Mr. Nice I'll be on you like lice Now run away, little mice And if I don't just chip you like ice I'll just make you see the light I'm just like Bruce Lee I'll break both of your knees The ICU is what you'll need A waiver, you're gonna read Shock therapy will be received A funeral, guaranteed