I live in a frequency where action rules that God is me In a war against my body, in the poetry of poverty 'Cause it's the rich ones who will make it 'Cause it's the rich ones who have the guts to take it They feel fine They feel fine Check out complainer by the bar Let's kick his a** and make him beg for more Let's line him up and make him scream and shout And show him he's got nothing to complain about 'Cause I believe in the groove complacent So jack me up and f** me up with entertainment Yeah, I feel fine