Beat drops with a heavy, distorted 808 loop, layered with the sharp sound of a speed bag hitting the platform) (Intro) Yeah. They think they got the timing down. They think they see the pattern. Nah, we playing chess with the hands. Welcome to The TRU art of Boxing. Let's break 'em down. (Verse 1) Step in the square, lock eyes with the threat Establish the baseline, dripping with sweat Bounce on the toes, pump a double jab clean Keep 'em in line, paint a predictable scene They timing my shoulders, they clocking the breath Thinking a steady pace leads to my death But a perfect rhythm is a beautiful lie Lull 'em to sleep while the seconds tick by Set up the trap with a basic textbook flow Then snap the timeline and shatter the show. (Chorus) Catch 'em off guard, break up the flow Fast then it's fast, then it's slow, now we go Rhythm gonna lull 'em to sleep in the ring Broken rhythm make 'em miss everything Vary the timing, you can't read the script Left hook heavy where the canvas just ripped Keep 'em all guessing, we shifting the pace Broken rhythm, put a smash in their face. (Verse 2) Now we break it. Stutter the step, freeze the frame Show 'em a feint, make 'em react to the name He reaches to parry, I pull back the heat Vary the timing, throw off his feet Slip to the inside, duck underneath the counter Roll through the hook, now I'm the hunter He throws a straight right, I slip to the baseline Pop a quick cross, completely erasing his face time Can't block a strike when the clock isn't straight One second early, two seconds late Shoulder roll smooth, counter right out the pocket Switch up the combo, jab-jab-hook like a rocket. (Chorus) Catch 'em off guard, break up the flow Fast then it's fast, then it's slow, now we go Rhythm gonna lull 'em to sleep in the ring Broken rhythm make 'em miss everything Vary the timing, you can't read the script Left hook heavy where the canvas just ripped Keep 'em all guessing, we shifting the pace Broken rhythm, put a smash in their face. (Bridge) Street with the science, the grit in the floor The TRU art of Boxing, the ultimate war You want the crown? You gotta disrupt Stay too predictable, get interrupted Bob and weave through the chaos and grime True power comes when you fracture the time. (Verse 3) Final round pressure, they gasping for air Chasing a ghost that was never quite there Fake the jab low, delay on the rise Upper cut splits through the guard and the eyes Footwork irregular, cutting the ring Feinting the cross just to let the hook sing Confusion is king when the math keeps on shifting We lifting the belt while the smoke is just drifting. (Outro) Yeah. Slip, roll, counter. The TRU art of Boxing. You can't time what you can't predict. Broken rhythm. We out. (Fade out with heavy bass and stuttering, syncopated snare hits)
