My Attitude - Diabolic

News Reporter: Are you referring to Diabolik?

Minister of Interior: Diabolik?

I assure you that this individual,

whose very name reveals his antagonism to the established values of our

society, will soon be brought to justice

Middle fingers up, y’all.

Let’s go.

Come on!

I’m an animal caged, paid dues, no annual raise

I channel my rage, attacking on a national stage

Fighting 'til my knuckles cracked, pushed back, and displayed

Coming through the skin like Wolverine’s retractable blades

I’m a cannibal, caveman that escaped

To paint pictures with my words, spray cans on my waist

You better recognize like the city’s cameras in place

With software to identify by scanning your face

Now examine the traits of a mythological beast

A monster unleashed like those Greek gods on the beach

Released the Kraken, attacking Metropolitan streets

Demolishing beats while you’re busy following Tweets

A Diabolical, freak genius secretly stands

I’m on a different wavelength, got your frequencies jammed

Strategically planned, ‘cause the streets that we ran

Exorcise demons, bringing out the beast in each man

Screaming:

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Hahahaha!)

I’ll take a shot of tequila, and pop’s prodigal son

Starts hollering like his father with a bottle of rum

Who got some shit to pop?

Scream top of your lungs

Choke on your words, have a seizure, and swallow your tongue

I’m hollow and numb, plus I’m coming through with the goons

My crew carpooled to throw barstools in saloons

Moving the room like visuals when chewing some shrooms

So you should assume a doctor’s gonna suture your wounds

A stupid buffoon from the worst environment known

Where scientists clone cells like a wireless phone

In the 90s, and deny me when applying for loans

At least street cred can buy me a retirement home

We’re dying alone, slowly, so we’re losing control

Presently, I’m past caring what the future can hold

I’ll live for the moment, fusing both the new and the old

My music is cold and represents the roots of my soul

It’s like:

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Hahahaha!)

Ain’t no fictional plot—it's real shit, hitting the spot

It’s simmering hot with your bitch on the tip of my cock

Choking from it like a noose with a fisherman’s knot

Then I give her a shot like she’s in insulin shock

Still ain’t got a pot to piss in, so I’ll piss in the pots

In your kitchen after I get done picking the locks

Listen and watch.

The time bomb ticks on the clock

And after I blow, I’ll move to Cuba, living with Pac

Sitting atop the charts while they market my name

Arsenal aimed at any marketing target in range

Discharged of the game.

I don’t need the stardom and fame

So I’m attacking like Japan at Pearl Harbor with planes

Far from the same, 'cause the music industry’s wack

That’s why every real motherfucker’s giving me dap

I’m sick of these cats, so riddle me this, riddle me that

When will someone grow some balls and try dissing me back?

Tell 'em:

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Nah, «fuck you"'s my attitude!)

«Fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool» (Hahahaha!)

You should already know

Don’t ask me for shit

You know what you’ll hear

Hey!

Fuck you

You heard

I’ll repeat it, fuck you

Peace

(Fuck you, I’m out)