| Must keep my composure
|
| Must keep my composure
|
| Spank Rock and the killers
|
| (Round 1… FIGHT!)
|
| Moving through the city, fill my body with the poison
|
| Head spinning, caught a rhythm like clockwork
|
| I ain’t trying to do no wrong but they leave with no choice man
|
| There is so much spirit cut the curse to my verse
|
| Peter Piper pick peppers and I snort lines
|
| Sorry mom I’m just a man of my times
|
| And even though they hold me hostage
|
| Said I ain’t worth a dime and time is money, huh, I ain’t worth your time
|
| And I ain’t worth your time
|
| But I ain’t worth your time
|
| But I ain’t worth your time
|
| Hold it down
|
| Must keep my composure
|
| Must keep my composure
|
| Must keep my composure
|
| Through your controller
|
| London, hold me closer
|
| Until this is over
|
| Spank Rock and the killers
|
| (Round 2… FIGHT!)
|
| Everybody is quick to put their arms around me
|
| They got nuttin' to lose — all this gain, shit, I’m empty inside
|
| And every time I try to refuel, quickly draining
|
| Told me times are hard, thought I would be fine but
|
| What? |
| These pricks spit upon the sentiment fiercely
|
| Up against it without seeking the intent of it
|
| You don’t know me and you don’t know my style
|
| Kid, I’m a marathon — your thoughts a quarter mile
|
| Said you don’t know my style
|
| You ain’t half this wild
|
| You ain’t half this wild
|
| Hold it down
|
| That’s right let’s stay groove
|
| Come on and let me see you move
|
| That’s right let’s stay groove
|
| Come on and let me see you WOO
|
| Hands up
|
| Hands up
|
| Stand up
|
| Stand up, WOO
|
| Takin' it back to the basics, face it
|
| We are the kind to pitch this song in basement
|
| And I ain’t tying to have a problem here
|
| So put your ego in check and get that ass in gear |