This Ain\u0027t a Scene, It\u0027s an Arms Race - Fall Out Boy (lyrics) Travie! (Uh-oh) Pete, thought I told you What up, Hemmy? I see you! \u2026 I\u0027ve had the world at arm\u0027s length from the get-go This ain\u0027t an arms race, it\u0027s Apocalypto The industry\u0027s a target, I suggest these labels get low On top of that, this track is cracked like burnt brillo (damn) Consider me the beast of Easter leavened VIP, all day, AK47 If words is weapons, then get to stepping My arsenal\u0027s enough to send Hell\u0027s angels to Heaven I\u0027m cool as the Fonz, and deadly as Charles Bronson I\u0027m Gonzo, you can call me Travie S. Thompson Go ahead, and you can choose a similar path But don\u0027t cast yourself up like Sylvia Plath, geeze Watch Travie take the title with ease You want a verse, please I wouldn\u0027t bless you if you sneezed (achoo!) Pardon me, I\u0027m allergic to bullshit Got a god complex with a full clip (pow!) The leader man, Tyga-man make you leave your man Ladies\u0027 man take your mate Im sayin\u0027 this song got me thinkin\u0027 out my range With no piff involved, my swag flyer than a plane With the ruly attitude, ignorant, arrogant dude Excuse me, I\u0027m only seventeen (that\u0027s my age) You\u0027re excused, I like your honesty Honestly, you\u0027re more mature than the average teen And though your label family, you must have a team Decaydance, preferrably, that\u0027ll be next for me (hint hint) The rest\u0027ll be history Plat i um until they stop listenin\u0027 Then your baby\u0027s back like ribs I know you been missin\u0027 me, I almost forgot to mention it Ever hear a sound like this? (wow!) This ain\u0027t a scene, it\u0027s god-damn arms race (sing it out loud) This ain\u0027t a scene, it\u0027s god-damn arms race I\u0027m not a shoulder to cry on, but I digress I\u0027m the leadin\u0027 man and the lies I weave are Oh so intricate, oh so intricate I\u0027m the leadin\u0027 man and the lies I weave are Oh so intricate, oh so intricate Now I don?t know what the hell This song is talkin\u0027 \u0027bout, do you? She said: \u0022Yeah, I been spendin\u0027 all day Tryin\u0027 to figure that out.\u0022 You too? The arms race made \u0027em raise they arms And race straight to the top, who knew? Right now they got that number one spot Do you want that? (want that)Me too One thing I gotta call out, boy, take a look at Fall Out Boy Since they ain?t black, when they get money They don?t ball out, boy They just buy tight jeans till their nuts hang all out, boy They figure \u0027Ye dress tight so we gon dress tighter He dress white so we gon dress whiter So in spite \u0027r anything you might?ve seen or heard This scene occurred, word I\u0027m the leadin\u0027 man and the lies I weave are Oh so intricate, oh so intricate I\u0027m the leadin\u0027 man and the lies I weave are Oh so intricate, oh so intricate Uh, expensive taste We up in the arms race Big money, big crib, big Cadillac Big daddy, boy, I cup big dro sack (that\u0027s right) Paper stack, big rain, big bling-bling Try to take big chain, big baybay I\u0027m goin\u0027, I\u0027m goin\u0027, I\u0027m mothafuckin\u0027 gone Ain\u0027t no signs that I\u0027m stowin\u0027, Though I\u0027m knowin\u0027 that I\u0027m wrong, bring it on Out to get it, I need cash by the stacks Need a new pair of stacies and a dash for \u0027Lac, Shaq Hear that? Top back with woman and grill Comin\u0027 down on the spiderweb chrome wheels First place in the stuntin\u0027 race, top-notch paint drip drop, flip flop, strap witta glock Live everyday like it\u0027s my last one, maybe it is aint no morrows in my world of sorrow, maybe it his I break ribs, break jaws, break laws at most Still stick to the coast, hold up and reload There\u0027s an arms race, like I\u0027m runnin\u0027 on my hands A dance marathon on my napalms and Drop mine\u0027s first so that they bombs can\u0027t and glocks, lasers, missles beat rocks, paper, scissors I built mine\u0027s big, better build yours bigger Built mine\u0027s quick so I could kill yours quicker The number one supplier, the world\u0027s largest equipper The second smallest dyer, best non-coexister I pledge allegiance to gasoline and bulletproof limousines And leans on the property of the poor and Svery night, I pray to the Lords of War, every man and mac eleven that all good child rebel soldiers go to AK47 heaven and a landmine in every playground that they step in and you took the footage from the camera on the tips of our bullets and record like former darfur [push it] Yeah, it\u0027s Weezy, baby! I am your arms dealer I\u0027m more like an armed dealer, literally Really, I don\u0027t get this song neither but I\u0027ma figure it out like a palm reader and Since I be on TV, I turn it on to see me! Hey, I\u0027m so cool, even I wanna be me That was totally off the subject But for me, every song is like pussy So fuck it, like Fresh we dougie [we dougie, we dougie]