Lyrics:

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(x2)
I ain't of the mind that Paddy Considine
Is one to take guff from no conspiracy of toughs

In my mind I talk to Paddy Considine
And it always goes something like this

The kids in my hood, they're up to no good

Tell me, Paddy, what to do in an age of no pity?
From that young Irish face to that dude who plays bass
They're bringing baseball bats down to stroller city

(x2)
I ain't of the mind that Paddy Considine
Is one to take guff from no conspiracy of toughs

The bums and punks and drunks sift through my junk
I hear stories about last night's meat train
I never thought I'd see the day when the white man has no say
Tell me, Paddy, how do we get our country out of the crapper?

That fat, pink fuck is crying on TV again
He's got the persecution complex of a coked up rapper

I ain't of the mind (x4)

Well, it's a hot summer, someone could get hurt
And it's a hot summer and people get hurt
Well, it's a hot summer, hot, hot
And it's a hot summer, people get hurt

I'll take you out first (x2)

Well, it's a hot summer, someone could get hurt
And it's a hot summer, people get hurt
Well, it's a hot summer, hot, hot
And it's a hot summer, people get hurt

I'll take you out first
There's blood for your thirst

And, Paddy, it's all just a matter of time before you get your ass kicked
When you're walking a straight line from the bar to your goddamn house
But living's just not worth it when you live like a mouse
Am I right, Paddy?

I, I ain't of the mind that Paddy Considine
Is one to take guff from no conspiracy of toughs
I ain't of the mind that Paddy Considine
Is one to take guff from no conspiracy of toughs

Much less some pussy like you