| Lyrics: | (Live from Family Values 98 in Kansas City)
Hey! Are you ready...then get up!!
Let me hear some noise!
I see all you motherfuckers bum-rushing the floor tonight.
Y'all ready to make this motherfucking place go crazy?
Get up! Get up! Woohah!
Oh...just a minute.
I see your mouth moving but I don't hear a word that you say.
Pop, mish, mosh, up in the brain I'm on my cycle.
Highways my ways up and down like the Dow Jones.
Pass these microphones.
I don't exaggerate.
Keep it real, only speak about the shit I hate.
Hey you people, just the tudes, attitudes.
Lose the attitude, I won't be fuckin' mad at you.
But if you're bitin' don't be fightin' kid.
I'm sorta likin' what you're stealin'.
That open wound style needs some healin'.
Jacked up on my flow, I'm glad you know.
Behind the spotlight got the phattest fuckin' live show.
You feel the tension.
Eyeballs in your socket.
Can comprehends how we rock it, you can't stop it.
You like the ways that we're livin', you need them.
Your demo tape I inspected, then ejected.
Who survives at the end of the day?
With too much airplay, huh?
I'm gonna keep it all underground.
Kansas City...join me!!
What do you know about this, punk?
Who's hot?
Who's not?
Who?! Who?!
Who's hot? Who's not?
Oh...just a minute.
I see your mouth moving, but I don't hear a word that you say. Do you feel me baby?
Pop hand grenades, best describe the impaction.
Can't get no satisfaction, take it back.
That was you doin' back in '82.
No need for answers, just a thought of your mental fallout shelter.
Helter Skelter, the J while bet ya, the beetle upset ya.
But I'm an easy rider like I'm Henry Fonda.
The kingpin Bizkit, the flows we aren't ya.
Mental highways, my path you can't stop the unexpected.
Check your road block.
Oh, like water, keep on rollin',
Cause this mic is mine and I'm gonna keep on shinin' on you.
I need your help Kansas City.
Get the fuck up!!
What do you know about this, punk?
Who's hot?
Who's not?
Who?! Who?!
Who's hot?
Who's not?
Woohah! Cambodia! |
