How To Win At Rock Paper Scissors Lyrics – The Streets
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Think of which of three defenses do I want to play
Squinting at the features that are moving on his face
Stick two fingers up to meet his move at once again
Into this, his fist then meets me
Boo hoo, I’m too late
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Wrinkles in your features tell me you have not been trained
Sitting with your breathing held is screwing up your game
Wishing to defeat the enemy but refusing what I say
Flick the lint off your beaten self and do yourself a favor
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Winners will repeat themself
Losers want to change
You will beat the system if you do just what I say
Bring it in and meet me there and let’s do it once again
My digits are on an even edge, I choose to opt for paper
But scissors are what meet me, he’s subdued me and it pains
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
I’m livid at the scene
I dwell there, a mood is on my face
Visions in my cheated head confused as it rotates
The winners will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Snipping at your sheet, I bettered you and once again
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
But to win the meeting next, you want the move that wasn’t played
Instinct feels authentic, but the proof is in the data
This is seen in creatures, it’s been viewed in Mother Nature
There’s skin on lizards that feature blemishes that use this for their mating
Think of it like cheating, but the rules are all obeyed
Statistically, when I’m feeling better, I choose to opt to stay
This wisdom is for free, but yet what’s stupid is for sale
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Winners will repeat themself
Losers want to change
My fingers pleat together and I use my foggy brain
Listen to me, please, I will refuse to help you later
You will beat the system if you do just what I say
My scissors did the beating then ’cause you had gone for change
Give it fricking hell again and choose at what remains
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change
Sitting on the seating’s edge and pulling on the suede
My Clipper’s flint I wheel again, it produces not a flame
Lingering defeats don’t help when they move into your brain
The fist is in my deep intent, the move that wasn’t played
I think a minute, see him ready, shoot the rock in play
His fingers are a V upheld, I do a double-take
This time he is beaten
The winner will repeat themself
Losers want to change