He rose from Texas the wrestling scene writing the scriptures of 3:16, took it upon
himself to erase pieces of trash who got in his face, I see his shirts wherever I
wander, I know in my heart that they've never laundered and they never need it to
be and that kind of attitude appeals to me. And Mcmahon can't control him so don't
even try, you can have him arrested but there goes the ride, can't take away the
intensity of his high, but you can't lock away the Stone Cold pride. Took out poor
Vinnie a shot to the sac, A picture was taken so he could look back, A pain inflicted
on a true fiend, molding the king of the true 3:16, he's in top form and his knee is
fixed, ready to school that Sean Michaels prick and open up a can of whoop-ass
how do you like that jackass. And Mcmahon can't control him so don't even try,
you can have him arrested but there goes the ride, can't take away the intensity of
his high, but you can't lock away the Stone Cold pride.


Lyrics submitted by Josiah, edited by Mellow_Harsher

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