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I was watching First of Fury and that was dedication to an art form. Bruce Lee was in action and so was I, I was fluid hit and taking hits. And then all of the sudden came the nunchuks.
I was spitting this poetry and using all the tools at my disposal. The world wanted it and I gave it to them. I was a leader here and I took the expression of my soul and put it on paper. I wore it like a coat, draped in expression.
I attacked any body part they exposed to me. I saw nothing but weaknesses in them and I explored my strengths.
