[Chorus]
(Better, better, better, better x 4)
Go on! Get stuck in the gutter more
Nursing the bruised ego, born to lose
Quipping, “yeah, yeah, yeah!”
Feeling cold to the bone
It better, better be my own
Stomach stone full grown

[Verse 1]
I’m from where clocks move slower, and the kids can’t lose
But you probably knew a few that had to drop out school
Many who were on route to hit the warpath soon
As I’m watching the news talking of how we lost more troops
Coming from my neighborhood, we had a backyard pool
A mall rat walking round the stores or just passed through
And I managed to keep it cool as a pissed off youth
Without wearing a trench coat with the combat boots
Everyday I got awaken by the same old tune
It makes me think of all the different types of drugs I’ve used
But it’s a shame when it put me in a hostile mood
These obstacles I’ve improved upon to drop these jewels
What a place to raise a family and start brand new
And I’m the guy who would refuse to let it stop my groove
Backyard BBQs, with an outdoor view
As if a higher power’s sayin’ “may your dreams come true.”
Where even if they have money, they don’t flaunt much loot
I’m at the park full court on some ‘watch these moves’
But be aware of walking past dudes, lost front tooth
Gut hangin out of their shirt, wearing Velcro shoes
Either they never had a washrag or owned shampoo
Or I’m not surprised if they have a fast food tattoo
I’m sorry I’m not sorry if my contents rude
My attitude’s you must have thought I had forgot my roots
Eyes huge like your pops is wearing high heel shoes
In a winter storm, eating off a frozen popsicle
Damn! I remember when I used to have the small town blues
Rap music wasn’t another way I saw cartoons
I had this girl confused who thought it wouldn’t take much proof
Of if it wasn’t the first time I got a bra strap loose
Good people and everybody seems to know who’s who
You need some more variety, I’ve been there too
Hopeful it gets…
(Better, better, better, better x4)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
On sunny days I ate my breakfast out on my porch stoop
Could hardly wait to play the arcade and take each fool
I’m from where you can join the group on an old bar stool
And it’s as if you were put inside of a time capsule
A large house, I would complain about it has no room
Slept till noon, and wasn’t ever kept well groomed
Before I ever had a car to drive around on fumes
And jerk the wheel because a deer is in my headlights spooked
I was home late tiptoeing cause I missed curfew
When older folks were squeezing you like it’s the orange juice
A lot to prove, for I was born with the silver spoon
In cold temperature, hoping it gets warm out soon
To rally cap, with a mouth full of big league chew
When Skate Land Roller Rink had a DJ booth
Got scrapbooks full of verses in how much I grew
Had countless feuds over who put out the best albums
This energy we spent on how we can arrange these tunes
Is speaking for itself to heal my lowlife wounds
Cause I would hate when folks would assume I was a roughneck goon
But all the shit won’t loosen up by eating sun dried prunes
Though if you feed the animal and disobey those rules
It’s no excuse when it’s ripping through your soft tissue
Framework’s the Uncle Luke of this 2-Live-Crew
I freak the beats nastier than what you’ve seen guys do
Original consistent vocalist, you need more proof?
Knowing I won’t be satisfied until I burn this roof?
Then don’t be mad you bought a ticket and the show’s canceled
Uncontrollable funk aroma stinging your nostrils
I do it…
(Better, better, better, better x4)