Get back the fact is that their giving me slack cause I'm the
prophet of naught and the gospel aphrodisiac. Give me
sorrow, I break it into love. You gotta follow, I'm holding our
people above. No time to wait there's the gate proceed.
I've got what you want and I've got what you need. I'm your
musical instrument the public embarrassment, the hand
around your neck and your money unspent.

They call me mister boombastic fantastic. Don't do nothing
drastic you spastic, cause I bomb the mic like a fascist. I'm
not even from America and I bury ya. Light in a coffin as to
not to worry ya. Bury ya make you bounce like a berry ya'll.
Make you giddy in you stomach like your sisters are ba ra
bop. And now you met your match as I drain out your power
and make you stop like a Seiko sports watch.

Your a blank zero, forsaken hero you're always gonna be a
motherfucking weirdo

You see the laughing man he's a nut cause he's a Salinger
fan It's the Quarashi plan taken from the Koran. They beat
us up and they wait till we break but in the end this is just
another earthquake. Repent and your lost, forget with all
cost. It's a malady a sickness you can't floss. You gotta
leave it behind, look around find a sign get back on the
track and walk the fine line.

Your a blank zero, forsaken hero you're always gonna be a
motherfucking weirdo

Check it check it out here I come not leaving till I'm done
Please stay a little longer and you're gonna get some from
the man from the crew, little boy blue. Wait until it's dark
and we'll be home for you. Now you may fuck up, you
fucking stuck up prick you better watch it before you make
the whole world sick that's it. Making me ill, you know
against your will. I'm throwing rhymes like grenades,
making a kill.

Your a blank zero, forsaken hero you're always gonna be a motherfucking weirdo

Writer : BLONDAL, SOLVI/OLAFSSON, HUSSI/HAUKSSON, OMAR ORN
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing