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