I bet you wonder, you think there's nothing to it It's all dogshit and you step right thru it I'm still at my own pace while you pigs spit in my face But I'm telling you I won't bend You think I'm lazy I ain't got no cent That I'm working and writing you don't wanna know You'd rather see this sucker go down real slow
[RUDEBOY] if the money's right, cast pearl for swine
I bet ya wonder, there must be something to it This motherfucker there's no way he can do it He's no composer, kind of a dope Probably works the nightshift for a local grocer
Uses cocaine, speed to fly Occupy his dumb little mind Has to be a talented stealer of creative minds He's just a mind dealer