GYM CLASS HEROES. "Biter's Block". This is not novelty. This is nothing delicate. This is the result of some people’s search for something relevant. Stake claim immediately. Cause hot products cool down. At which point will flock the new sounds. Take fame intravenously. But when nature turns to habit. I’ll be sure to leave the scene and start stacking it. This is nothing fraudulent. This is that sure shot itchy finger lingering behind your target audience. You got em all convinced. But we ain’t buying it buddy. Demand for lies is high. And you’re supplying it. Truth is brutal and consumes you if you let it. Type that in your little away message and set it. [Chorus]. Keep singing songs for me. That I can write in my sleep like I’m counting sheep. Keep singing songs for me. Man you warning me what you ought to be. Keep singing songs for me. Just following the leader with your blah blah blah. Keep singing songs for me. That I can write in my sleep like I’m counting sheep. And this is not a fashion statement. It’s elegant intuition. Far beyond your bed wetter kindergarten compositions. This is a part of me. How can you sleep at night. When what you don’t bite you write half-heartedly. Go join the army. And be the best you can be. Give new meaning to blowing up overseas. Please. We kick them doors down when nobody would let us in. And give you that proverbial taste of your own medicine. We took your formula and relabeled it. And sat patiently and giggled it when you drank it. It’s new poison street cred when just about the same reflesh. Pop bottles and dropped names. And you’ll dismiss it cause it isn’t what you’re used to. But who the fuck died and made you king koopa. [Chorus]. Wow congratulations on your new purchase. I heard you bought a crib on biters block downtown plagiarism’s paradise. You’re not a movement. You’re purely amusement. The poster boy for Xerox and the role model for parasites. You serve no purpose. You’re purely decorative. And bore use to death with your auditory sedatives. Oh they don’t see. No we don’t sleep. And hog tie your runaway bride with cold feet. We built this city on lock and load logic. And burned it down the same night. So go ahead and put your tears on ice baby. I think we got a winner. And kiss your crucifix your boy’s a certified sinner. [Chorus]