[verse 1]
(what, what, woah)
I cooked my first song it didn´t go to waste
(didn´t go, no)
When I cooked my first song I burst into flower
(how´d you like that?)
Now everyone I meet has a bowl-cut
Even though I never popped
But mommy said, don´t worry, I´ll score gold
(golden boy, woah)
People thought wrong that Käärijä´s just bluffing
(yeah)
No need to boo, or heat on, if you don´t get this heat-on
Even when the game´s crowded, I can handle my own stuff
No need to come bluff

[Chorus]
(what, what, woah)
I´m on fucking fire put the rec on, hop, hop
(I´m on fucking fire)
Turn up the fan, it´s fucking hot, hot
(booth´s on fire again)
I´m on fucking fire, keep the rec on non-stop
Only missing a hot-rod, and grass, still stuff´s fucking rock, rock

[verse 2]
(the wires are all messed up, what?)
I´m me but you´re Finnish this, Finnish that
(you copying machine)
Your best-before-date is gone but they blast this tomorrow
(how´d you like that?)
I have a sauce to this pastry and the rest´ll lick the leftovers
When I open my mouth, fall bushes and trees
When the beat kicks and I drop tricks places are in bits
(oh!)
People thought wrong that Käärijä´s here babbling
(what the fuck you thinking?)
It´s okay by me but Käärijä´s just downing
(red Marli, down the hatch, yeah)
When my throat´s dry
And I won´t stay before I´ve set this scene on fire
Then I can sleepless nights pay
[Chorus]
(what, what, woah)
I´m on fucking fire put the rec on, hop, hop
(I´m on fucking fire)
Turn up the fan, it´s fucking hot, hot
(booth´s on fire again)
I´m on fucking fire, keep the rec on non-stop
Only missing a hot-rod, and grass, still stuff´s fucking rock, rock

[verse 3]
I´m not a brute, meaning
In English, no biggie, but you can expect big things
(how?)
Bigger than Putin, Oslo, a construction crane, cosmos or the China wall
(wow)
The smaller the dog, the bigger the mouth
I prefer to raise the volume to keeping it down
(woof)
And when I step into the booth
(woof)
I have a fire blanket when I rec shit
(yeah!)

[Chorus]
(what, what, woah)
I´m on fucking fire put the rec on, hop, hop
(I´m on fucking fire)
Turn up the fan, it´s fucking hot, hot
(booth´s on fire again)
I´m on fucking fire, keep the rec on non-stop
Only missing a hot-rod, and grass, still stuff´s fucking rock, rock
(one more time)
I´m on fucking fire put the rec on, hop, hop
(hop, hop, I´m on fucking fire)
Turn up the fan, it´s fucking hot, hot
(hot, hot, booth´s on fire again)
I´m on fucking fire, keep the rec on non-stop
Only missing a hot-rod, and grass, still stuff´s fucking rock, rock