You got a deathwish? Well I'm your Tinkerbell
And I clap back
Waiting on the bus back to a beatdown Hell
With my bad intentions in a fat stack
Talkin' that talk is bad for your health
You must've been thinking of someone else
Pockets filled up with lighters and knives
Short tempers and shorter lives
You're not scary you just make us mad
Why you out here kickin' at hives?
Laced up our fightin' and dancin' shoes
You've got none of the rhythm and all of the blues
Ooh what's that sound? We're gonna catch ya on the way down
Yeah we love the way you shape shift, we're gonna hit ya on the rebound
Nothing to hide and nothing to lose...
You wanna see what my friends can do?
Everyone here is half dead and twice as mean as you