TOOLS

I'm the son of rap fucker

Better grab your hat sucker

in for a ride on the wild side

better bring a survival list

We're on our own with the wind

Grew up with a pen and a sword

Blew up thanks to the old records

Poor like a freezing cold beggar

not a dime in my flannel shirt

Rhymes in my mind, a will to grind

Remind myself I've got to live my life

No time to spare but I'm always changing

Not shaving, laying in bed with a frown face

Crying my eyes out into the pillowcase

I wish I was a king with a crown

and a full bank account to match that

Drank from a can of energy man

banned from my own microphone stand

Made a one man band in the attic

I'm the sandman, I'm a mad man

Fake tan, ram jam, no cam, Jean-Claude Van Damme

I'm a battering ram and you're the wall

you just sat around talked, while I made moves

Bought new shoes while I built tools