To me it's what we do when we're bored
I feel the heat comin' off of the blacktop
Because I'm hyped up out of control
If it's a fight, I'm ready to go
I wouldn't put my money on the other guy
If you know what I know that I know
Is it fucking, drugging or guns
I feel the heat comin' off of the blacktop
Let's take a trip down memory lane
The words circling in my brain
You can treat this like another all the same
But don't cry like a bitch when you feel the pain
This is hardly worth fighting for
But it's the little petty shit that I can't ignore
When my fist hits your face, and your face hits the floor