Fuck, Yeah!

No looking back, there's no attack coming.

Psych!

You Better run.

I'm on the mic gunning language fear my anguish.

Hear my Spanglish. "¿No habla ingles?

A style so wild, I'm hearing things twitch in the darkness.

Did you hear that?!

Where's a contrast artist when you fear black?

No need to cheer, clap or swear.

Fuck. Yeah!

Fuck. Yeah!

This is fun?

Yeah!

Out running his gun.

Yeah?

Fuck, yeah! Fuck, yeah!

Lucky, I cut air with 'a thrust of my gut air, no cost just cough.

*Harr*

Yeah!

Now cheer for my musical mouth-chair with 'a loud cheer! Fuck, yeah!