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