Experience, I'm going off in the lab Experiment, and give it all that I have
My temperament, I'm giving to what my last sense fronted up
A punisher to the publisher Gun is tucked, the jig is up, and the fun
Is up Block off, block off, everybody put the money
Up Block off, block off, frail ones are my coattails
Poachers, they only nice cause I coach well sculptures
And I pose for the camera They build you up to dismantle ya
They want control how they handle ya But they will never put their hands on you
They want control how they handle ya But they will never put their hands on you
You, you, you But they will never put their hands on you
You, you, you But they will never put their hands on you