Wrong Night, Wrong Fucking Fight
[Intro] [Heavy guitar riff, aggressive punk energy] [24 hours later...] [Verse 1 - The Plan] [Hardcore punk, 180 bpm, raw energy] We're sitting in the fucking car, feeling like Queens Tonight we getting easy money by any means Picked this shitty store 'cause it looks soft Me and Birdie gonna clean these fuckers off No regrets and no looking back Time to make this fucking midnight crack One quick job and we'll be fucking rich Life's a bitch and we found the glitch [Instrumental break] [Short aggressive guitar solo] [Verse 2 - Walking In] [Building tension, garage punk style] Swagger through the fucking door like we own the place Young clerk behind the counter, fear on her fucking face Or so we think as we make our fucking move Got nothing left that we need to fucking prove Been planning this shit for weeks on end Easy target, easy fucking win Birdie's grinning, I am fucking too About to make this fucker's night through [Verse 3 - Making Demands] [Thrash punk energy, shouted vocals] "Open up that fucking register now!" Clerk just stands there, don't know fucking how She stays so calm when we're in fucking charge This should be easy, we're living fucking large Birdie's getting impatient, starts to fucking shout But something here just ain't fucking right about The way we thought this shit would fucking go This girl's got something we don't fucking know [Instrumental] [Ominous guitar solo, tempo shift] [Verse 4 - The Twist] [Explosive energy, all instruments full volume] Clerk smiles and cracks her fucking knuckles slow "Wrong store, wrong night, wrong fucking bitch yo!" Before we know what's fucking happening here This girl's moved faster than we can fear Birdie's on the ground seeing fucking stars I'm next in line behind these fucking bars She's all fucking skill and her fists are flying true This clerk knows exactly what the fuck to do [Instrumental chaos] [Frantic guitar solo, drums going wild] [Verse 5 - Getting Owned] [Fast punk, desperate vocals] Punches landing like a fucking machine gun All our tough talk is fucking done This clerk's been waiting her whole fucking life To end some punks' criminal fucking strife We came for money, got served fucking pain Won't be trying this shit fucking again Birdie's crying, I can't fucking breathe Time to fucking take our leave [Chorus] [Anthemic punk, group vocals feel] Thought we were the predators tonight But we picked the wrong fucking fight Some people won't go down easy Some heroes make it look so breezy We came for cash but got schooled instead Lucky we're not fucking dead Wrong store, wrong clerk, wrong God damn fucking night Sometimes it's justice that wins the fucking fight [Instrumental] [Epic guitar solo, melodic punk style] [Verse 6 - Aftermath] [Slower, beaten down, folk-punk style] Crawling to the fucking car all beat to hell This shitty story we will never fucking tell That girl just schooled us fucking properly Showed us what real skill can be No money but we learned some shit today Some people don't just fucking run away Birdie's face looks like fucking raw meat But that clerk made our crime obsolete [Final Chorus] [Building back up, defiant but defeated] Thought we were the predators tonight But we picked the wrong fucking fight Some people won't go down easy Some heroes make it look so breezy We came for cash but got schooled instead Lucky we're not fucking dead Wrong store, wrong clerk, wrong God damn fucking night Sometimes it's justice that wins the fucking fight [Outro] [Explosive finish, all instruments] Wrong fucking night! Wrong fucking fight! WRONG FUCKING NIGHT! [End] [Abrupt stop]
