Wake up this morning in my bed and I worry
Worry how I'm gonna make it through
Standing on the rug in the middle of the room
I wonder if it matters if I do
Beat my head against the wall
What's it gonna get me?
And if I keep fighting this war that I did not start
That the microphone just made trickier
Needle skips when the record's through
Who's hand is gonna pick it up, not yours
Looks like it's gotta be mine
So you know I don't got no alibi
And fuck it if I'm waiting for a lucky break
I just keep on punching away
Looks like I'm gonna have to do this the hard way
Every day I just keep on pushing
What am I pushing to? I guess the other side
I'm like a loaded gun waiting to go off
Shoot my way out of the pressure drop
So don't fight me you can't come and challenge the bad seed
I'll probably just kick you in the nuts and then leave
Cause what's the point of hanging out
When every motherfucker's looking out for himself?
Music stops, gun was loaded but the safety was off
Another victim of the pressure drop
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