yes. you.

back off... they want you. i swear.

you've got no worries...
you've got no cares.

all you got is mother fuckers who will jock you.

and you shoot off the ground like a rocket.

i feel sorry for your ass... its out of season.


I coulda helped you, but you had to act out
You don't have a fuckin' clue what I'm about

And you ain't nothin' but a hooker
Sellin' your fuckin' soul

and if i blow it... then i blow it.

cos im a poet...

and - i - know - it.