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 the button
But if ya bowin down, then let me do the cuttin!
Some speak the sounds, but speak in silent voices
like radio is silent though it fills the air with noises
Its transmissions bring submission, as ya mold to the unreal
and mad boy grips the microphone, wit' a fistful of steel!
Yeah...
[Chorus]
And mad boy grips the microphone, wit' a FISTFUL OF STEEL!
Wit' a FISTFUL OF STEEL!
('Cause I know the power of the question!)
Wit' a FISTFUL OF STEEL!
Wit' a FISTFUL OF STEEL!
(And I won't stop, 'cause I know the power of the question!)
It's time to flow like the fluid 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 the bastard son!
With the visions of the move, vocals not to soothe
But to ignite and put in flight, my sense, of militance
Groovin, playin this game called Survival
The status, the elite, the enemy, the rival
The silent sheep slippin, riffin, trippin
Give you 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!
Yeah...
[Chorus]
Aww shit!
[*Tom Morello's weird wah-wah guitar solos*]
(And I won't stop, 'cause I know the power of the question!)
And if the vibe was suicide, then you would push the button
But if you're bowin down, then LET ME DO THE CUTTIN!!
YEAH!!
C'MON!
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!
And if the vibe was suicide, then you would push the button
But if you're bowin down, then LET ME DO THE CUTTIN!!
YEEEEEEEE-YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!
Wit' a fistful of steel! UGH!!
C'mon! UGH!!
Wit' a FISTFUL OF STEEL!
UGH!
