Punk Rock B-Boy

Lyrics

One, two One, two, three, four Oi, punk rock b-boy, dropping scientifics with such ease Just try and touch these (what?) sneakers and fine cut sleeves Drying up, only more, it's holy war with true evil No chance to scope heads, squaring out with shoe people Who's equal, give me a break, this ain't no fleeting minor passion Flaming hearts, rocks off with knock off designer fashion Fly assassin, friendly smiles, many styles, it's an amalgam Fire like Malcolm in the Skinny Boys third album I can't get enough, I'm rocking faders wrecking balls Beard appeal, I'm steering clear of wack beats at all costs Genocidе, holocaust, slaughtered by an old timer Nеver ending search for beats, I'm digging like a coal miner No finer feeling fooling, slow approach the podium Sycophants shit their pants, they better take Imodium Sheer pandemonium, owning styles you've never heard before I see a herb, I eat 'em up cos I'm a herbivore Baddest but I'm never satisfied unless I'm wrecking something Forecast an orgasm twice cos I'm the second coming So let the punk in when you're riding with the headless horsemen The road to el dorado really lead to LA's fortune Born adversaries, don't wanna test ya, probably not Boom boom boom, shot em sexy like a coffee pot It's awfully hot in here, I should've chosen heaven's gate Lost is he who hesitates, I found a sound that devastates Burning 'em, fires that flicker and feeding 'em Freedom from the ticking clock Talkative, making them sicker vomitive Cracking skulls, picking locks Apocalypse, painting a picture, It's typical Hold my breath and lick a shot Negative, contradictor, critical. You don't want none, chicken hawk Walk before I knock 'em down, I line 'em up in meat rows And show up at your funeral service wearing street clothes I make a point of it, it's like I'm shooting free throws Every single time I'm betting on myself like Pete Rose