This one goes out to any man who doesn’t care

You’ll wanna care when you’re running scared

I could summon such cumbersome stuff to wear

And still find time to outrun the hare

Life’s a carnival game, it’s fun to fare

Then you wonder where your money went, it wasn’t fair

And when I spike that high striker, you’ll wanna stare

Cause I swear i won the world’s largest gummy bear

I’ll tug you from your knuckle hair

I’m the reason boxers have to fight in underwear

I’ll uppercut a sucker if he doеsn’t wear ‘em

Or if he triеs to cross me i’ll just punnet square ‘em

This ain’t your last supper, share

I’ll spare you if you pass me the tupperware

Toss me a couple pears

Underneath your puddle of saliva, yeah they’re under there

And if you were unaware

I ain't a tall guy but i ain’t a small fry

About a minute and a half has gone bye

Trust me I’m a waste of OUR time

But I can still make guitars cry

Don’t think Ubisoft, I can hear your Far Cry

Screaming more than 90 seconds now has gone by

Why try? I’m a waste of our time

But I can still make guitars cry

Drip drip that’s the tears of a sitar

But I’m still living life off a clif bar

And it’s hard, over 8 pounds, to lift bars

But I drop ‘em wit no problem like I’m Pixar

4 Toy Stories, 2 Braves, 6 cars

You’re a coy! boring, too lame for this star

Split you into 8 bits like pixel art

I hit tar-gets, you’re more kwik-mart

Get smart or stay dumb, it is the code

I’ll school you like the magic bus on frizzle’s show

No excuses mr. bueler, if you didn’t know

You missed the show now sit and mope in the bitter cold

Hi and welcome to the 4yo kitchen show

We’ll need corn flour, either way you’re picking rose

Throw these beets on a skillet, yeah, I sizzle those

Roasting every vegetable in hard core chisel mode

And matteo’s rosting potatoes of all kinds

Who think that he’s a neither fly or tall guy

I’ll try to get it through your mind

That I’m nothing but a waste of our time

Who can make a guitar cry

I’m a put and put it underneath the par guy

About 2 minutes and a half have gone by

Birdie, or an eagle, either of ‘em are fly

So I’ll take my time while I make guitars cry