(Chorus) I'm doing Damage (uh), Damage (uh), Damage (uh), Damage (uh) Damage (uh), Damege (uh), Destruction (terror), Motherf**ker say WHAT? (ONE) something's got to give (TWO) something's got to give (THREE) something's got to give RrrAArrrrrggghhhhhhh... (Verse 1) Sage Francis is out of it. He done switched his tone Closet Alcoholics Anonymous, b**h, I drink alone Nobody knows so I press on.. I go to Fugazi shows requesting Minor Threat songs Drunk driving for Exxon. Don't slalom the icebergs It's smooth sailing til the boat bottom bites curbs No problem, but my sight's blurred. Don't serve me drinks Because I'll write the words that make this whole world sink I'm bitter, sweet and sour, sh**, I need to shower, sh** and shave Stuck to the TV and completely out of it these days I've got a CD. F**k the counterfeit DJs Who first fronted on our vinyl then bought Bounce off EBAY I'm sick of headwraps...they meditate on rhymes Swing lead bats...to elevate their minds Get back...Emcees ain't f**king righteous Craig Mack ain't never got his meat lumped like this (CHORUS) (Verse 2: I am a nightmare walkin', psychopath stalkin' Natalie Portman with a blank tape in my walkman Talkin to myself over instrumental ca**ettes The essential steps of having graphic, telepathic mental s** Mind f**k me or get the hell off of my head case s** it up or spit it out. How's that medicated bed taste? I replaced the sheets. I love ripping off pillow cases Breaking teeth, shoving lip gla** in your little faces Like that! "Do you like that?" "If you had hands attached to your arms would you fight back?" I hijacked your daughter's school bus Dismantled ridiculous religions that supply Gods that you trust Whose plush style of living and senseless spending Is eh-heh-heh-heh-endinnnnnnng Sage Francis manages bandages on cancerous mannequins Standing in pajamas with bananas and candid cameras Damage (Damage) You know what I'm saying (Damage) (Damage) Yeah, do it with me! (Every chance I'm doing damage) Come on y'all! (Damage) You know the damage (Damage) (SMILE FOR ME! - BRUISE YOUR FACE AND DANCE!) (Verse 3) This music's got abusive roots, fists hit my face on rough nights You think bruises are cute but, trick, you ain't my blood type Some strike the wrong nerve (the way they converse is weak.)
Others write with strong words (they can't build the nerve to speak.) Verbally inept except when subjects are expected Preconceived conversation styles. "That small talk sh** was written kid!" Caught me. Watch me freestyle this bowel movement You won't hear no "ooohs" or "ahhhs" when I choose to use no vowels STUPID!" Thought I was kidding when I wasn't, b**h? sh** is HOT. Plumbers unclog my toilet wearing over mitts Your mommy thinks I'm dope...there's no pretending I'm not Put hockey sticks in your throat...from the penalty box Enemies jock while their girl shows athletic support Having s** for the sport of it on basketball courts Maintaining my composure when game night is over And I don't strike a pose...I strike a poseur. Doin' DAMAGE I'm doing Damage (uh), Damage (uh), Damage (uh), Damage (uh) Damage (uh), Damege (uh), Destruction (terror), Motherf**ker say WHAT? (ONE) It's nothing wrong with me (TWO) It's nothing wrong with me (THREE) It's nothing wrong with me RRRAArrrrrggghhhhhhh.. (Verse 4) I quickly enter your honey dip, strip ends from your money clip Joe Beats you to d**h with the sh** end of his ugly stick Fighting drama queens in the white college scene Wiping pockets clean when we make them run their sh** like soccer teams After they're chased with an axe...half of their face'll collapse You ain't copped it when Non-Prophets dropped ba** on wax? Well, I'm your typical hiphop political figure But I'm not left wing OR right wing. I'm the middle finger And Joe's a sick, demented, jaded mind reader Who shoots the sh** with a nickle-plated 9 MiliMeter When it's time to rock SHUT THE F**K UP I never had writer's block and Joey's never been in a production slump (Jump, Jump) It's totally worth it now (Jump, Jump) Don't listen when they say it's not (Jump, Jump) It always hurts coming down This is MY house, you don't like it? Get the f**k off of my rooftop (Yeah, yeah, cousin? coming through your area, we're Non Prophets Sage Francis on the lyrics, Joe Beats on production And my man DJ Mek-a-lek on the cut, bring it!) (ONE) It's nothing wrong with me (TWO) It's nothing wrong with me (THREE) It's nothing wrong with me RrrAArrrrrggghhhhhhh.. I do damage Everychance I do Damage