Taste the Floor

[Verse 1]
At the pool hall, hustling dough
I'll beat the pansies and then I'll go
Out to the bar to pick a fight
Maim some rednecks then hit the night

[Verse 2]
Why am I always in a mood like this?
I don't know, ain't no psychiatrist
This nagging feeling that I've got won't quit
I feel no pain and I don't give a shit

[Chorus]
Left, right, fight
Taste the floor
Two, four, move
Out the door

[Verse 3]
Music magazines with fags on the front
They dress like women, their message is blunt
They make their money, but they're doing it wrong
Kissing ass and writing radio songs

[Verse 4]
Buying their records and seeing their shows
The general public likes their panty hose
I'm not as young as I used to be
But I'll still be thrashing at a hundred and three, you'll see

[Chorus]
Left, right, fight
Taste the floor
Two, four, move
Out the door

[Bridge]
But they think I'm psycho, they think I'm deranged
I wear my leather, but I'm not that strange
I walk the streets but I hate what I see
Like a book by it's cover, they're judging me - fuck off!

[Chorus]
Left, right, fight
Taste the floor
Two, four, move
Out the door

[Chorus]
Left, right, fight
Taste the floor
Two, four, move
Out the door