...Kid we been around for ages,
we've been through different styles and phases
fiddled round with riddles, sounds and phrases.
Been ripping out some pages,
been to distant towns and cities, from ripping crowds on stages
to saving pennies for equipment with our lousy wages.
The way we live is now courageous,
'Cause who really does it?
Makes music, stays futureless, f*** it ?
We've got no food in the stomach
But couldn't care about the fools at the summit,
we do this for our myspace friends,
the folks that hope that we might change trends.
We Young, annoyed, hungry, unemployed,
We just wanna rock a show and hope that everyone enjoyed.
The mic's a one inch void away from my lip,
so, drop the beat so I can bust my s***...
I'm a spit it out, bottom to the top,
whether the crowd wanna get up, get out, follow me or not.
Chorus (sample)
Fed up of trying to lead a better life dog.
What a fella gotta do to get a tight job?
beg in order to get a bit of cheddar like bob?
and scheme on whoever's bit of bread I might rob?
Get it right, I use my little head and fight hard
but hell is always round the corner where the weather's like fog.
I don't wanna study, be a clever white slob,
I wanna write songs, life won't spare the right cards.
Where the mic y'all ? 'cause my pen is solid,
I made many songs with the money in my petty wallet !
I made an album, plenty love it and plenty want it,
but I don't anyone that's ready to spend a d*** penny on it.
Gulping alchohol, withholding pressure,
homies tell me hold your head up, I can barely hold together.
Holding my hands out for scraps like your local beggar,
I'm broke, I'm fed up and my s***** goals are pretty hopeless fella.
Family likes to make me feel like a failure,
but I believe in what I do so f*** you and what they tell ya.
Lonely with a walkman on, walking around,
talking to myself, feeling lost in the sound.
« life brings me down, in dreams of sound »
Chorus
we've been through different styles and phases
fiddled round with riddles, sounds and phrases.
Been ripping out some pages,
been to distant towns and cities, from ripping crowds on stages
to saving pennies for equipment with our lousy wages.
The way we live is now courageous,
'Cause who really does it?
Makes music, stays futureless, f*** it ?
We've got no food in the stomach
But couldn't care about the fools at the summit,
we do this for our myspace friends,
the folks that hope that we might change trends.
We Young, annoyed, hungry, unemployed,
We just wanna rock a show and hope that everyone enjoyed.
The mic's a one inch void away from my lip,
so, drop the beat so I can bust my s***...
I'm a spit it out, bottom to the top,
whether the crowd wanna get up, get out, follow me or not.
Chorus (sample)
Fed up of trying to lead a better life dog.
What a fella gotta do to get a tight job?
beg in order to get a bit of cheddar like bob?
and scheme on whoever's bit of bread I might rob?
Get it right, I use my little head and fight hard
but hell is always round the corner where the weather's like fog.
I don't wanna study, be a clever white slob,
I wanna write songs, life won't spare the right cards.
Where the mic y'all ? 'cause my pen is solid,
I made many songs with the money in my petty wallet !
I made an album, plenty love it and plenty want it,
but I don't anyone that's ready to spend a d*** penny on it.
Gulping alchohol, withholding pressure,
homies tell me hold your head up, I can barely hold together.
Holding my hands out for scraps like your local beggar,
I'm broke, I'm fed up and my s***** goals are pretty hopeless fella.
Family likes to make me feel like a failure,
but I believe in what I do so f*** you and what they tell ya.
Lonely with a walkman on, walking around,
talking to myself, feeling lost in the sound.
« life brings me down, in dreams of sound »
Chorus