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Nik Lentz Thrashes BJ Penn In Original Poem

Written by Tom Ngo
October 9th, 2015
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UFC Nik Lentz

Nik Lentz (pictured) is a poet, and BJ Penn didn’t even know it.

Lentz just took his smack-talk game to a whole new level, unleashing an extended diss poem at the expense Penn.

As you might recall, Penn appeared on “UFC Tonight” last month to continue his public beef with nutritionist Mike Dolce, and proceeded to bring Lentz into the fray.

Penn said, “I’m sick and tired of hearing about Mike Dolce. You know what Mike Dolce, I’ll put a challenge out right now — you go grab Nik Lentz, that’s your boy, bring him down to 145, I’ll run right through him in one round and then I’ll find you in the back and I’ll smash you.”

Lentz, who has worked with Dolce in the past but hasn’t in quite some time, initially said he’d be down to welcome “The Prodigy” back into the cage. However, a newly released poem seems to suggest otherwise because, as Lentz put it, “Me and you fighting – what’s the point? – Leaving you for dead – won’t move me up the ranks.”

Penn has yet to respond, but best believe he will. He’s retired, what else does he have to do?

Here’s Lentz’s original piece (courtesy of MMAJunkie.com):

“A little poem for a little man” by Nik Lentz

Hey Beej,

It seems you’re mouthing off,
and making some cracks,
about my boy Mike Dolce,
because he can’t get back.

As you distort all the facts,
and reinterpret the past,
when he worked so hard to save you
from your own fat ass.

Then after you took your beating
instead of being a man
you pointed at him
and said it was his plan.

As you flailed around,
eating jabs and hooks
you didn’t blame yourself
you blamed your cook.

Which is really kind of like
the bully you are
You hog glory when you win
but from blame you stay far.

When a better fighter beats you,
not once, not twice,
but the same amount of times
as those little blind mice.

You got three chances to beat Frankie E
and he mopped the cage
with your legend
for all to see.

Now you sit in Hawaii
contemplating your doom
or beating up your friends
in hotel rooms

But nothing keeps you happy
so you persist
in seeking out glory
you’re a narcissist

All you are is an image
so now you must try
to reacquire the spotlight
narcissistics apply.

By calling out a nutritionist
or me, his friend
to try to suck more fame
before it all ends

But look at it from my place
as you light another joint
Me and you fighting
what’s the point?

Leaving you for dead
won’t move me up the ranks
in your last dozen fights
you absolutely stank

You’re defense is downright awful
So’s your attack
You haven’t looked good
since we invaded Iraq

You can’t knock me out
with a sock full of dimes
and like Frankie from New Jersey
I can beat you three times

But what vacuum in my career
can it possibly fill?
To tool you up standing
or take you down at will?

See, fighting is my present
and fighting is your past
So calling me out
makes you look like an ass

Like the videos on YouTube
I’m going to watch later
You’re like a cranky old man
offering to fight a bunch of skaters

A rusty old destroyer
that can no longer sink ships
Who gets beat up all the time
like a World Star clip

So save your idle chatter
This poem should let you know
I’m on my way somewhere
you can no longer go

So pack the bong and take a rip
Spend your money’s money
but stop your boring blathering
you fat old dummy

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