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rich kid limp into the limousine
surround the wagons and we'll burn 'em to the ground
i fought for years for that pole position
you were the king, now they've torn your paper crown
roll over thunder, big pile i'm under
i'm no lawyer you're no judge, it's my right and i won't budge
i don't wanna be ridin' high
i don't need that to be satisfied
say you're the surgeon but i've seen you shaking
you've let the orderlies order you around
i'll eat the fruit when it's ripe and ready
my hands are steady and i move without a sound
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