Irate Gamer, why don't you come to your senses?
You've been making pretenses for so long now.
Oh, you're a hard one,
And I know that you've got no reason.
The fans that are pleasing you
Will vanish somehow.

Don't you hide your guilty conscience, boy,
We'll find it if we're able.
You know concealing the truth is something you'll regret.

Now your videos are so inept,
They've become a horror fable.
And you only want the praise that you can't get.

Irate Gamer, oh, you ain't no gaming wonder.
You keep making blunders, it's blowing our steam.
And YouTube, oh YouTube well, they don't know who they're defending.
Your talent's offending game-reviewing mainstream.

Don't you think that you're so original.
The scripts you write are plain abysmal.
You love to steal material every day.
You're losing all your highs and lows,
Ain't it funny how bad comments go away?

Irate Gamer, why don't you come to your senses?
Stop making pretenses before it's too late.
We'll keep on flaming, 'til the time YouTube expels you.
And when the whole world turns against you,
(Whole world turns against you!)
And when the whole world turns against you, you’ll accept your fate.