Standing In The Middle

[Mike Shinoda] Yo, y’all better wake up; you think we don’t see y’all drifting? Sleeping on the job and forgetting your position? (position) Sit straight and listen; what you are missing I cook up a batch, hot straight out the kitchen No indecision, I spit right Heavy as a fist fight No gloves and no masks No pain and no slack No way to look back Nobody to say I can’t make my own path Cause the way that y’all act, I wanna break something Comin’ at me like the pain I feel means nothing Comin’ from a place where you can’t relate Where every word from your face comes across as fake And I can hardly take, the way that y’all treat us Sending this out to anyone who won’t believe us Spelling it out so y’all know the deal And if you can’t feel it, maybe you can’t feel [Hook: Motion Man] I’m standing in the middle of it Middle of it Middle of it Man, who are you? I’m standing in the middle of it Middle of it Middle of it What are you saying? I’m standing in the middle of it Middle of it Middle of it What are you writing? I’m standing in the middle of it Middle of it Middle of it Man, who are you? [Motion Man] (Tell ‘em, Motion) Eat your words Say what you used to say and act how you used to act Every time you heard my occupation was a rap attack (rap attack) My conversation’s stacked, I switch my defense on you Every time you want to get deep you’ll see my knuckle package Born to die, ferocious emcee make you go back and write your rhymes My style chokes up like a little league baseball player It moves, I’m strangling as I’m swinging as main mangler I wanna dee-four, poach you as your seafood is C4 I’m gonna rap and you still knee-high Y’all wanna train with me, guy? Man, it’s destructive Man, it’s like jabs from boxing champ Lennox Perfect for your head, I’ll fit it like New Era hats That top off suits, B-boy etiquette Express myself with my hang-side Then I extend one finger, the middle to fucking all crouds [Hook] [Mike Shinoda] Yo, Motion (yeah?) Sometimes I feel it’s like nothing that I ever do's ever good enough (for real) Like I should stop and go back to L.A Back away where I know I won’t be seen And nobody’s gonna critique the music that I make And mistake me for some fucking kid with a backpack Rapping on a track just to make a buck For a mix-tape that sucks And DJ's that don’t get it But I been down that road and I know People don’t wanna go where I might go Don’t wanna know what it’s like To step outside your zone with a mic Just controlling the hype And if we need to take shots from them And be stopped by them just to meet these ends Then so be it, I will not hold my breath I’m gonna spit ‘til I got none left Motion, where you at? [Hook]