This is a song about "Fighting with soul"

Smoking opium, fighting with an enlightened draconian.

Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them

It ain't with me you're fighting with but my verbal skill's shadow,

Money got me pulling strings, i got that geppetto dough

I'mma punt the paper over the pussy like a field goal

Soaking in my flow getting spiritual with my soul,

Worse than the others -- bill clinton, mr. bob dole

I came with a fucking grim reaper to take your soul

You hear the words coming from my lips bastards

Think they tight, with their fancy clothes and fighting words

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

I'm a lost soul, twisted lyricist with mischief in store

And you ain't gettin' it, 'til you start payin' jewels

That's your soul along with your principles and your morals

Bang! bang! came from that movie ring

You ain’t rapping you're fighting