That boy who messed with me, who I beat, he's back; he's up my ass, won't leave me, alone.
He comes by everyday, [demonstrates fist bump] and wants to be my buddy, wants protection. He asks if I'll walk with him, help him fight off this one, back down that one, beat up the other one. All these other young thugs are picking on him. he offered me five dollars to walk with him one day—afraid of this one big one he was.
I told 'im, "I'm no badass and don't step in no one else's business and don't pick no fights either. That's not the way to go about your life. Besides, if you don't stand up to them they'll keep coming back. You've got to stand up."
So there it is, got me a little buddy up my ass, trying to make trouble come my way, as if his daddy didn't teach him nothin' 'bout bein' a man, that a man has ta stand up.
Rubbing Out Palefaces
Moral Minority Survival at the End of Caucasian Time Paperback
Told ya.
Should have backed his ass into the street the first time he came around and told you "you got heart ...."