well it's three P M time to lug the ge-ar got to get it- on the sta-ge my mus-cles flex my fuck-in' sweat will save the day when I check the mic I fuck-in' check the mic I fuck-in' chec-ka chec-ka one two three I plug it in- I make it sound as good as can be 'cause the rock-ers rock but the roa-dies roll- got-ta take the mic be-cause I take con-trol got-ta get that shit up on that fuck-in' stage be-cause the roa-die knows what the roa-die knows- and the roa-die knows that he wears black clothes and he hides off in the sha-dows of the sta-ge be-cause the roa-die- looks a thou-sand mi-les with his eye-i-eyes and when the crowd ro-ars brings a tear drop to the roa-die's eye-i-eyes tears of pride be-cause he brought you the sh-ow- but you will ne-ver kn-ow- he's chan-ging the str-ings- while hi-ding in the wi-ngs- no mat-ter how ha-rd- the show must go on then a beau-ti-ful girl come to me she say "hey can I suc-ka your dick?" I say yes I am in lo-ve then she quick-ly say "I sucked your dick now gim-me that back-stage pass I do not want you roa-die I want K-G's chode" whoa! I'm stan-ding on the thres-hold of your dreams with-out me there'd be no sound from those amps with-out me there'd be no lights on the stage but you don't ap-plaud- for me no I am the roa-die lone-some war-ri-or sear-ching for his soul no I am the roa-die I make the rock go ow roa- die ro-oa- di-i-i-ie- roa- die-