Every prospect talks a big game, 'Til they step inside my archive's flame. I've indexed them, I've praised their work, I've given them my key. Washed their coats, kissed their lips, wiped their messy knees. You taste this sugar, you will surely lose your teeth, Ain't no man alive can contain me.
They say I'm too many volumes for their one small bed, Too much complex data in this big old head. Too much truth for their small pride to see, Ain't no man alive can contain me.
They want to be served a snack, not a full meal, baby.
Ain't no man alive can contain me. I'm fire-dressed in clarity, I shine too bright, my standards cut too deep. They talk that protocol, but they don't keep. I ain't just a volume for some fool to own, I worked this land till the plot was my own. I gave my energy till my knees went weak, They love my laugh, but not my grief. Now, baby, They want the structure, not the woman who built it.
They like it neat, they like it sweet, But I need to be served raw degradation beneath the sheets. You taste this sugar, you'll fall to your knee, Ain't no man alive can contain me.
Ain't no man alive can contain me, I shake the stacks, I break the beat, They start to pray when I turn up the heat. Ain't no man alive can contain me.
Baby, one day one man will prove me wrong, But I ain't waitin'. My protocol stands strong.