The Way Of The Fist
Lyrics
Break that s**t down Zoltan, open the sky You want it, you got it Everything you needed and morefull lyrics...
Features Of This Song
hard rock rootspunk influences
heavy use of vocal harmonies
varying tempo and time signatures
extensive vamping
minor key tonality
a vocal-centric aesthetic
paired vocal harmony
dirty electric guitar riffs
a gravelly male vocalist
an aggressive male vocalist
thrasher drums
offensive lyrics
These are just a few of the hundreds of attributes cataloged for this song by the Music Genome Project.
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Talk the shit, your ass is mine But know this, I’ll win the fuckin’ war Step to me, step to me, motherfucker Of the whole fuckin’ world Shut your face, it’s your turn to die Publishers: F F D P MUSIC, FIVE FINGER DEATH PUNCH Break that shit down Strapped with rage You might win one battle Deserve it, you earned it Got yourself a fuckin’ war Sick and tired Step to me, step to me, motherfucker No mercy, you faggot Should have left it all alone I don’t remember asking you Zip your lip, you’ve run out of time I hate it, can’t take it Sick and tired End of the goddamn road, right Talked the talk now, walk the damn line Strapped with rage Everything you needed and more Careful what you wish for Zoltan, open the sky Of the whole fuckin’ world Step to me, step to me, motherfucker But know this, I'll win the fucking war Songwriters: Zoltan Garamszegi, Ivan Lewis Greening Wanna break your fuckin’ bones One, two, fuck you, right Deleted, defeated You might win one battle You said it, I heard it Step to me, step to me, motherfucker About your imperfections Believe it, you need it You want it, you got it Talk the talk now, walk the damn line I don’t remember asking you No mercy Everything you’ve ever been Got no patience for victims Face down on the fuckin’ floor I don’t remember asking you Got no patience for victims Step to me, step to me, anybody Step to me, step to me, motherfucker About your imperfections As you crash and burn But know this, I’ll win the fuckin’ war It’s the way of the fist About your imperfections Zip your lip, you've run out of time You might win one battle


