Yeah, they say my style's too hot, yo.
(Damn, why?)
Got a pocket full of fire, man.
And all the haters just try to stop me, yo.
(Damn, why?)
It's time for you to just retire, man.
(Yeah, don't flatter yourself.)
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
I got a pocket full of fire, man,
and I roll it like some tires, man.
Call me Vince,
Kiss my ass and get fired, man.
You know I got the fix,
Call me plier-man.
Ha, shit's funny, bitches hatin'.
I cop a cigarillo at the Clark station,
I'm Italiano and I'm part Asian.
You star gazin' when you look at me,
Your heart races when you look at me.
I'm gettin' gone, and you John Elton,
I'm propane and you so lame,
Like, Oh my fucking god, fuck this kid.
Yeah, they say my style's too hot, yo.
(Damn, why?)
Got a pocket full of fire, man.
And all the haters try to stop me, yo.
(Damn, why?)
It's time for you to retire, man.
(Yeah, don't flatter yourself,)
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
I got a pocket full of fire, friend.
You crave a pocketful of firemen.
(Ahaha.)
Okay, it's round 2,
You're about as rare as a fucking brown moose.
Original as a pair of brown shoes,
I'm a purple people eater,
Covered in tattoos, your town's screwed.
Rip the lid off this fruit cup,
Plastic's strong, but the juice sucks.
I'll get the chainsaw, family tree needs spruced up.
Bring it.
Yeah, they say my style's too hot, yo.
(Damn, why?)
Got a pocket full of fire, man.
And all the haters try to stop me, yo.
(Damn, why?)
It's time for you to just retire, man.
(Yeah, don't flatter yourself,)
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?

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