I may wake at four, But my knuckles an hour before, And what for? They remain sour. They are always gazing, They are always smirking, In chance of some idiot's blazing, Waiting for some fool's fucking. My punches don't land, They engrave, Might catch you friend, And teach you to behave. They jump to show to the girls, Wear cool jackets, I jump when my chest hurls, After some salt packets. They laugh like hehehe, I laugh from guts, Let's play, No if no buts.