One. I'm tripping literally, I should be dish washing 'Cause I got bowlegged knees and often they be crossing Go ahead and ask my bosses, they'll tell you that I'm clumsy I'll probably fall into your fist so you don't have to punch me. Two. I'm vegetarian so I don't want no beef You've lost expensive jewelry, I've lost my crooked teeth I sing in church choir, my daddy is a reverend I tried to be a gansta but my curfew was eleven Three. I drice my Vespa through the streets and wear my helmet proud I do my homework every night then come to this rowdy crowd I signed a full-on battle, filled in all the basics But when they saw it was me, they put me on the waiting list Four. I run from bullies in the streets, I don't know how to fight I don't throw lefts or rights I just slap, sprint, and write I'm skinny, all scrawny arms and a tiny chest Shoot I could hide behind that pole if I just hold my breath Five. My apron looks like a dress I could twirl around like a pretty princess I'm not a busboy, I'm a waitress But I can't get the drink right, taste test Let me find who's around, those your guests My hand got sweaty and I lost my grip My shoes don't fit, they hand me down From the Salvation Army right downtown When I walk into the room, the lights go down I'm so ugly, mom won't hug me And that's to tell you about it I'm beating myself, something you couldn't do