Limp Bizkit — Press Your Luck

Here we go! Bring it on! I'm Fred D, number one limp dawg Alien night train layin’ down the law All around the world everybody wanna see My five knuckle grip on this M.I.C Weavin’ in and out with that old school funk Keep the bass line sticky like a bayou swamp Five more seconds till this shit takes off Best buckle up before your shit gets tossed Chorus: Don't press your luck You might get fucked up Don't press your luck You might get fucked up Oh my God, it's the cops at the door And they wanna stop all the mosh on the floor They wanna keep me in line so I freak me a rhyme for your mind and I'm dressed to kill Livin' low with my flow on the creep, I'm a vampire startin' fires in the street Like a snake sneaking up in the grass with the beat you can blast takin' chunks out your ass Chorus All around ... The world ... You know me ... All around ... The world ... We know you... All you MCs wakin' up from a nap Better fix your target on the red ball cap And if you ain't got 20/20 on the sight Meet me at the show I'll be rockin' all night Better bring a friend and a girlie if you got it And she could use a pass to my backstage party Now I'm out of line and I like it like that Just another victim on the limp dawg’s track Oh my God (x4) It's the cops here again And they wanna lock a dog up in a pen They wanna try to control how we rock and we roll 'cause they know I'm a fugitive On the run is my mic like a gun and I use the stage to release all my rage Gimme one, gimme two, gimme three, gimme Britney and I rock it like a G Chorus