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
This is the voice that I was given and
If you don't like it take a long walk
Off of the shortest pier 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, and won't you want it
Pick it up, pick it up, and you need it to
Pick it up, pick it up, and won't you want it
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 while we're singing
So I guess that's a step in the right direction
Glare of composition in 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, and won't you want it
Pick it up, pick it up, and you need it to
Pick it up, pick it up, and won't you want it
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 that 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, and won't you want it
Pick it up, pick it up, and you need it to
Pick it up, pick it up, and won't you want it
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