(Crocker Verse)
/I've been a terror since the public school era/ Arrests, drug tests, buncha shit on my chest/ Full of spit and vinegar, workin' out the integer/ Negative to positive, opposition miniature/ Fuck if I'm white? Most pale in comparison/ Style can't afford like they're Harrison/ Gonna talk but they're hardly mean/ Just a dumb, loud addict son: Charlie Sheen/ Buh, buh, Bastards/ Uh, uh, uh...Winning/ Spit Tiger's Blood....son, uh, uh, uh...Winning/ Here's to my state, that still wanna secede/ And to Representative Bright, that wants our own currency.../That shit's fuh, fuh, fuh, funny/ Our state government's some duh, duh, duh..Dummies!/ The hell are you doin'?/ We're still broke/ And ask the President, "where the hell's my hope?"/
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