Black mamba

We've got one chance to break out And we need it now 'Cause I'm sick and tired of waiting Sick of this fucking apartment Love me or leave me or rip me apart Because the pussy i was getting and If you don't like it take a long walk Off of the shortest cliff you can find And I'll be singing it out I'll be singing... Oh, Mr. Magazine I never wrote one single thing for you Or your so-called music scene You don't mean a thing to me Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up, you need it too Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up When they review the debut What if the critics hate you Don't worry cause they Might just catch somebody off their feet Well they can love it or leave it or rip it apart We're living what we're singing So I guess that's a step in the right direction Clever composition and the honesty, honesty Oh, Mr. Magazine I never wrote one single thing for you Or your so-called music scene You both mean shit to me Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up, you need it too Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up So save your breath and the money you spent Go work in retail and spare the suspense Just don't take chances on anything at all Anything at all So afraid of anything that may not come that easy Too afraid of anything you may not have seen before So afraid of anything that may not come that easy Too afraid of anything that may not... Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up, you need it too Pick it up, pick it up, what you wanted Pick it up, pick it up So save your breath and the money you spent Go work in retail and spare the suspense Just don't take chances on anything at all Anything at all So save your breath and the money you spent Go work in retail and spare the suspense Just don't take chances on anything at all Anything at all