(Verse 1)
Step up in the octagon, you know who's boss,
McGregor's here, throwing darts, no coin toss.
Y'all fighters lining up, like sheep for the slaughter,
Champ-champ here, reignin' over land and water.
(Chorus)
Throwin' lefts, throwin' rights, got you all in fright,
Talk the talk, walk the walk, under Dublin's lights.
Journalists scribblin', can't keep up with the pace,
Try to knock me down, I'll rise and win the race.
(Verse 2)
Diaz, you tough, but brother, I broke the mold,
Two fights deep, our story aggressively told.
Khabib, you flew, but remember the bus day?
You can run the hills, but in the cage, you'll pay.
(Chorus)
Throwin' lefts, throwin' rights, got you all in fright,
Talk the talk, walk the walk, under Dublin's lights.
Journalists scribblin', can't keep up with the pace,
Try to knock me down, I'll rise and win the race.
(Bridge)
To the pundits and the scribes, keep spinnin' your tales,
While I'm cashin' checks, and settin' sail.
Your words are weak, like Aldo's chin in thirteen,
One quick left, now who's the fight scene's queen?
(Verse 3)
Holloway, Poirier, lined up, knocked down,
This Irish king still wearin' his thorny crown.
To all my foes, line up for your fame,
Step in the ring, it's a whole different game.
(Outro)
So here’s the king, his throne solid as ever,
Doubt all you want, I'm smart and I'm clever.
Build your narratives, throw your petty digs,
I'm in the history books, y'all just some rigs.
(Chorus)
Throwin' lefts, throwin' rights, got you all in fright,
Talk the talk, walk the walk, under Dublin's lights.
Journalists scribblin', can't keep up with the pace,
Try to knock me down, I'll rise and win the race.