Kid Personal Crusade
I'm a nine-year-old ball of mad,
don't like this thing I see
Got me bouncing off the walls,
mama wanna know what's wrong with me
So I tell her,
but only so much
Don't want mama burning a trail,
ending up in jail
Anyhow, I don't need no parental aid,
I'm the neighborhood kid
who first wore the justice cape
From my x-ray eyes they can't escape,
when they're doing something wrong
I'm gonna catch them,
and make them cry uncle
Right now, it's summertime,
which means a lot of long lines ...
and outside there's no shade
As I see the object of my ire,
what stokes my personal crusade
For two bucks, bad Kenny
is selling one dollar lemonade
I hate seeing greedy people getting paid,
I got a mind to overturn his crook stand haterade
Even though I'm just a kid,
that's my personal crusade ... at least for today
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