fistful of steel
                                        
                                        
                                    silence
                     something about silence makes me sick
                         'cause silence can be violent
                            sorta like a slit wrist
                            if the vibe was suicide
                         then you would push da button
                             but if ya bowin' down
                          then let me do the cuttin'
                            some speak with sounds
                          but speak in silent voices
                             like radio is silent
                      though it fills the air with noises
                      its transmission brings submission
                           as ya mold to the unreal
                         mad boy grips the microphone
                            wit' a fistful of steel
                               fistful of steel
                               fistful of steel
                               fistful of steel
                               fistful of steel
             yes ... it's time to flow like the fluids in ya veins
                                 if ya will it
                                i will spill it
                      and ya out just as quick as ya came
                               not a silent one
                               but a defiant one
                              never a normal one
                          'cause i'm that bastard son
                         with the visions of the move
                              vocals not to sooth
                        but to ignite and put in flight
                             my sence of militance
                groovin' ... playin' this game called survival
                 status the elite ... the enemy ... the rival
               the silentsheep slippin' ... riffin' ... trippin'
                 give ya a glimpse of the reality i'm grippin'
             steppin into the jam and i'm slammin' like shaquille
                         mad boy grips the microphone
                            wit' a fistful of steel
                             a 44 full of bullets
                               face full of pale
                              eyes full of empty
                             a stare full of nails
                  the roulette ball rolls alone on the wheel
                              a mind full of fire
                            and a fistful of steel
                            if the vibe was suicide
                         then you would push da button
                             but if ya bowin' down
                          then let me do the cuttin'
                                        
                                        

    Source: geocities.com/sunsetstrip/birdland/2861

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