Sometimes I look at my own face Where's my snare? I have no snare in my headphones - there you go Yeah.. yo, yo Have you ever been hated or discriminated against? I have; I've been protested and demonstrated against Picket signs for my wicked rhymes, look at the times Sick as the mind of the motherf**kin kid that's behind all this commotion emotions run deep as ocean's explodin Tempers flarin from parents just blow 'em off and keep goin Not takin nothin from no one give 'em hell long as I'm breathin Keep kickin ass in the mornin and takin names in the evenin Leave 'em with a taste as sour as vinegar in they mouth See they can trigger me, but they'll never figure me out Look at me now; I bet ya probably sick of me now ain't you momma? I'ma make you look so ridiculous now.