Well, it's a Saturday, in July, 1992
It's gotta be like 3 o'clock or some shit
I hate everybody, and the more I think about it
The more I hate 'em

And it's just people, man
It's the fucking people
I mean, I looked in the mirror and I said
That looks cool, man, you look like an ugly motherfucker
Like a skinny little weirdo

How can I walk around town the way I am
Knowing that I know who I am
And you people looking at me
Like I don't know who the fuck I am?
That I expect all of you to realize who I am
And that's me being unreasonable

I don't like to let people make me make decisions
By looking at them and saying: I think they're saying this
But they give me this attitude like
Like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing
Bug the shit out of me, man, you know?

I keep moving and moving and trying to stay
A step ahead of people
Even if it's a step ahead in a direction
That no one's going to go, you know
Not because they're frightened
But because no one's going to go that way
And you need a lot of directions to go forward to go

I can't stand it, I'm so fucking picky
That's the way I am with my music
My shit comes in, and I'm like
Yeah man, that's a nasty song
And now it's like: Alright, done

In a sense of like, man, when I first did it
It sounded cool, and I know it sounds cool
And I know if I play it for people, they'd go
Holy shit, that's a nasty song, man
That sounds like fucking on steroids and shit

But it's not that
It's the fact that I hear these new things
Every time I fucking do something, you know?
And then I lay them down and there they are
And then I move on

And it's so fucking hard when you gotta be
The fucking everything at once
I mean, do anything, motherfucker
And get this shit out '92
How long have you been doing this shit?
You've been doing the shit you've been doing for a year

And then, you've got some nasty shit
Let me tell you
You always had shit coming out of you
That was never a problem
The problem was being able to associate it with yourself

Now you know what you are
Next thing you do is to make everybody else know
Who you are, fucker
You put things together that don't go together
That's what it's all about

Creating is putting things together that don't go together
And you make something else
Because it's all about progress, motherfucker
I am progress
Get off of your fucking lazy ass
And make something better than I made

That's the thing, it's mostly, no
That's not me, that I'm so worried about who I am
More than I'm worried about who I'm not
And I mean, you know, maybe I look like a fucking idiot
Maybe it's not the next thing
I'm not saying I'm trying to get hip on the hip thing

It's all, it's not a matter of fate
It's a matter of choice
I mean, that's one thing I got
I think I will never lose that

I may not always be Angry Boy
My music may not always be hard-edged or soft-edged
Or weird, or not weird
Or straightforward, you know?

But the one thing I will have
Not to sound fucking hokey
Is a definite, fucking, companionable sense of humor
Definitely different, I'll give you that

And besides all of that bullshit
Is I know what I'm doing
Nobody ever trusted that I knew what I was doing
Ever since the beginning of fucking time
Nobody thinks I know what I'm doing

I know what I'm doing!
You know if you don't do your homework
You gonna fail, you know that?
What do you think?
What do you fucking think?

If you don't go to college
You're not gonna get a good job
You