I live in a frequency,Â
Where action rules,Â
That God is me,Â
In a war against my body,Â
In the poetry of poverty.Â

´Cause it´s the rich ones who make it,Â
´Cause it´s the rich ones who have the guts to take it.Â
They feel fine.Â

Check out complainer by the bar,Â
Let´s kick his ass and make him beg for more,Â
Let´s line him up,Â
And make him scream and shout,Â
And show him he´s got nothing to complain about.Â

´Cause I believe in the groove complacent,Â
So jack me up and fuck me up with entertainment,Â
Yeah, I feel fine.Â