I'm saying lots of things I know you won't like
To prompt an altercation.
I can handle you in a fight.
The blows will be mean;
My hook is the ultimate combatant--
So fast you won't see it moving.
There's nothing left to talk about;
I'm fed up with the reproving.

Let's have fisticuffs, fisticuffs,
I wanna have fisticuffs, fisticuffs.
I'll give you a body block, a body block.
You should fear my body block, my body block,
You should fear my body block.

You'll be patient, understood,
The kind that's laid out on the table
In the operating room, Jack,
All dosed up on morphine,

With a busted hand and your joints askew.
I'll treat you deferentially
Before the blows; then I'll punch you out,
Animalistic'lly.

Let's have fisticuffs, fisticuffs,
I wanna have fisticuffs, fisticuffs,
I will give you body shock, with body block.
You should fear my body block, my body block,
You should fear my body block.

We start fisticuffs, fisticuffs,
I find that your fists are rough, fists are tough
Then I hear the body shock: my body's clocked
It's clear: mine was gaudy talk. . .a gimpy walk. . .