Me and Charlie Manson dancing to Hanson
The beat don't stop ‘till your pops pay the ransom
Your mama got ants in her pants, she be crampin’
My steelo, amigo- Goddammit, I'm ampin’

Take a little time for to find fortified rhymes
Hype and sly, divine-minded am I
Why, oh why try to define my style
I'm a stupid ass, whoever you ask will abide
Walk down streets, all the people look at me
They're like, “Jarv is a fucking idiot” and I agree
I can't blame ‘em, I'm the forsaken
Spawn of satan living in mama's basement
I skate down hills, I bust my face
Give no fucks, got a bunch to waste
Busted, concussed, like, “What's the date?
Who gives a fuck, give my nuts a taste”
Salty, sweet- Get in line for the feast
The birds and the bees break spine to the beat
Peace to the bitches, I love you all
Get fucked twenty bucks a piece
Sluts weak in the knees for the king of the losers
Greeting hoes since I was in a booster
Even though she know I'm a user
She gave me dome in her PT Cruiser
We can go where the scenery's nice
Porta-potty under cell-phone light
By the dumpster out back of The Station
You'll realize that I ain't your type
Uhhh- I'm that dude posted up in the corner of the room
Hair to my back and it's covered in mats
Bat shit, gon' spaz to the bap and the boom
“You can improve” That's what they're telling me
It's evident, apparently I'm missing it
I figured I'd get it, but I never did
I get rid of it and keep it going, knowing what I know,
It’s fair to say I won't change, no, not even a little bit

Me and Charlie Manson dancing to Hanson
The beat don't stop ‘till your pops pay the ransom
Your mama got ants in her pants, she be crampin’
My steelo, amigo- Goddammit, I'm ampin'

I'm just a delinquent, gotta measure my drinking
I'm thinking I should probably stay home this weekend
I'm no good, I should go back to my job in the shop
Find a woman, have a kid, get a dog
Let that thought sink in

You can be whatever you wanna be, go 'head and be it
You can see just what he's gonna be right when you see him
Uh, uh, uh, what’s that?
Uhhh

King-Loser 4x

No good, what a joke, what an asshole
Never could he ever get a spot in the castle
Dump wildfire on your boy from above
Black Water Bay getting hot like tabasco
Rascal, a big one- Look at what the kid done
Smashed in the back door, blasting Big Pun on a boombox
Better get lost, kid, beat it
I was like, “I got a thick one, baby- Wanna see it?”
And I dipped out- Touched down like a runner
Gunning it, outrunning her big, bad brother
Back to the lair, jump down the stairs
Bust my face but I just don’t care, yo
King-Loser relaxed on a throne made of bottles, skate decks and traffic cones
Halfway home to the halfway house
Scatter-brain poems and a pack of Stone
Go nuts, freak out, flip shit at the bar
Driveway drift- Mailbox meet car
Three in the morning- Better make french toast
And burn the house down, no good so far
No, but I’m wicked sick- Beef jerky and beer at the picnic, bitch
Don’t tell me get a grip, kid, never giving in
King-Loser gonna chill? No, not even a little bit

Me and Charlie Manson dancing to Hanson
Yeah and the beat don’t stop until your pops hands over the goddamn ransom and your mom’s got several ants crawling around inside of her pants and she beginning to cramp my whole goddamn style, but I’m ‘bout to chug down seven-seventeen fucking Amp energy drinks

I'm just a delinquent, gotta measure my drinking
I'm thinking I should probably stay home this weekend
I'm no good, I should go back to my job in the shop
Find a woman, have a kid, get a dog 2x
Let that thought sink in, baby

You can be whatever you wanna be, go 'head and be it
You can see just what he's gonna be right when you see him
Uh, uh, uh, what’s that?
Uhhh

King-Loser 4x

I wanna get a leather jacket, yeah
I wanna get a leather jacket and a chain wallet 3x
I wanna get a leather jacket, yeah
I wanna get a leather jacket with my name on it