'Cause I fear no fall, no brawl, no scars
I'm two pounds shy of a bomb
I'm one shade short of alarm
I'm too past wrath that I'm calm
Got two last laughs in my palms
I'm three degrees west of a hurricane
Four wheel drive with a ball 'n chain
My five foot seven is irrelevant
I'm six, six, six if you threaten my development
Now see a wise man learns from your mistakes
And lets the blunders of his brother serve to fill his plate
So best be on your way before the tidal wave breaks
'Cause you don't want to come to meet the Reaper that awaits