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I've been labouring nine-to-five,
my E's and my ciggies will keep me alive.
I'm a genius, that's my secret, we can jive to grind-core, and my soul you can keep it.
You can keep it.
Oooh, ska punk hour is coming our way, I'll dance like a twat because I might just be gay.
I'd rather burn my face off than smell you rot,
but no one needs a conscience when you're sucking the cock.
And I believe my own hype, always.
I believe my own hype, always.
Believe your own hype and you might just get out.
Believe your own hype and you might just get out, get out.
I'd rather be in Jaxx on a Thursday night.
I'd rather be in Jaxx on a Thursday night.
I'd rather be in Jaxx on a Thursday night.
And I'd rather be in Jaxx on a Thursday night.
Hip-hop. Metal. Hard-house. Pop art. Pop art. Pop art. Pop art.
And I believe my own hype, always.
I believe my own hype, always.
Believe your own hype and you might just get out...
Believe your own hype and you might just get out, get out..
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