We saw you every day)
with your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
,Namefucking fame on all photos

All cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star, when you've reached this far
And the world really knows who you are
(really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
,And the poor outside your gates appall you

And the only hood you see is the one on your car
?Do you even have a clue as to who you are

Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
,Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before
Only now you're a coward, only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
,The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights
,And spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder

A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall


You're so fucking lost that with all of the costs
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in a mould of the rap, you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all that gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
,Seems you're losing your way together with your policy man

Ending up with a new definition of poverty - it's a joke
,Like those you make in every video to reach the kids with the dough

"With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro

Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed with another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" is mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho" and let TV blur your mouth once more
"!Just what we need in every store, thus quote the craving: "forever more

You're so right - a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah right
!Fuck you - fuck you right down to the core

!You know what? You're just another "Parental Advisory" bore

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

When you're rappin' your shit y'all


(Yo)
I guess when you're that loaded you'd better empty the barrel
?Every chance you get, is that so

,Empty your word and pose magazine, in magazine after magazine

Let every shot go, let the shit flow
'!Cause the show must go on and on and on - you're it bro

But it's sad to know, when your star implodes, all that shit hits the fans, just like your words back when you shone
,But it's getting late in the game, trapped in repeating your name, again and again

Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you, apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same, it's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear - more sane than you appear in your self deploring cock obsessive koks delirium
But I say, to me you just redefine the old romans' vomatorium

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

You're a man of the masses, took all the classes
Their asses are yours
All those bores who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed in your greed
,You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore, to kneel down before you

More precious to you than your brains and your hands
!They live for you

If you could just see this old tree, this patriarchic hierarchy, up where you want to be, you need miles of roots to lick your boots
?Don't you see

You're a man of the masses, you need all those asses, their fate to relate to the one that you were
Do you know who you are? Who are you? Not the one in your words that they buy
,They concur,you conquer, though a natural flunker
You need them to stay not fly, to obey like the dogs that they are, the cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses, your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low, and you need it to be so
See, without them you'd be nothing more than before, and you know that's not much
It's just or unjust such: just a sad little man... with his hand on his crotch

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

...The longer the spit falls

When you're rappin' your shit y'all

You're just another "Parental Advisory" sticker surfing beach boy
!Yo

We saw you every day)
with your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
,Namefucking fame on all photos

All cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star, when you've reached this far
And the world really knows who you are
(really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
,And the poor outside your gates appall you

And the only hood you see is the one on your car
?Do you even have a clue as to who you are

Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
,Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before
Only now you're a coward, only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
,The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights
,And spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder

A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall


You're so fucking lost that with all of the costs
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in a mould of the rap, you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all that gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
,Seems you're losing your way together with your policy man

Ending up with a new definition of poverty - it's a joke
,Like those you make in every video to reach the kids with the dough

"With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro

Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed with another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" is mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho" and let TV blur your mouth once more
"!Just what we need in every store, thus quote the craving: "forever more

You're so right - a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah right
!Fuck you - fuck you right down to the core

!You know what? You're just another "Parental Advisory" bore

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

When you're rappin' your shit y'all


(Yo)
I guess when you're that loaded you'd better empty the barrel
?Every chance you get, is that so

,Empty your word and pose magazine, in magazine after magazine

Let every shot go, let the shit flow
'!Cause the show must go on and on and on - you're it bro

But it's sad to know, when your star implodes, all that shit hits the fans, just like your words back when you shone
,But it's getting late in the game, trapped in repeating your name, again and again

Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you, apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same, it's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear - more sane than you appear in your self deploring cock obsessive koks delirium
But I say, to me you just redefine the old romans' vomatorium

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

You're a man of the masses, took all the classes
Their asses are yours
All those bores who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed in your greed
,You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore, to kneel down before you

More precious to you than your brains and your hands
!They live for you

If you could just see this old tree, this patriarchic hierarchy, up where you want to be, you need miles of roots to lick your boots
?Don't you see

You're a man of the masses, you need all those asses, their fate to relate to the one that you were
Do you know who you are? Who are you? Not the one in your words that they buy
,They concur,you conquer, though a natural flunker
You need them to stay not fly, to obey like the dogs that they are, the cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses, your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low, and you need it to be so
See, without them you'd be nothing more than before, and you know that's not much
It's just or unjust such: just a sad little man... with his hand on his crotch

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

...The longer the spit falls

When you're rappin' your shit y'all

You're just another "Parental Advisory" sticker surfing beach boy
!Yo

We saw you every day)
with your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
,Namefucking fame on all photos

All cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star, when you've reached this far
And the world really knows who you are
(really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
,And the poor outside your gates appall you

And the only hood you see is the one on your car
?Do you even have a clue as to who you are

Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
,Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before
Only now you're a coward, only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
,The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights
,And spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder

A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall


You're so fucking lost that with all of the costs
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in a mould of the rap, you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all that gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
,Seems you're losing your way together with your policy man

Ending up with a new definition of poverty - it's a joke
,Like those you make in every video to reach the kids with the dough

"With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro

Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed with another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" is mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho" and let TV blur your mouth once more
"!Just what we need in every store, thus quote the craving: "forever more

You're so right - a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah right
!Fuck you - fuck you right down to the core

!You know what? You're just another "Parental Advisory" bore

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

When you're rappin' your shit y'all


(Yo)
I guess when you're that loaded you'd better empty the barrel
?Every chance you get, is that so

,Empty your word and pose magazine, in magazine after magazine

Let every shot go, let the shit flow
'!Cause the show must go on and on and on - you're it bro

But it's sad to know, when your star implodes, all that shit hits the fans, just like your words back when you shone
,But it's getting late in the game, trapped in repeating your name, again and again

Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you, apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same, it's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear - more sane than you appear in your self deploring cock obsessive koks delirium
But I say, to me you just redefine the old romans' vomatorium

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

You're a man of the masses, took all the classes
Their asses are yours
All those bores who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed in your greed
,You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore, to kneel down before you

More precious to you than your brains and your hands
!They live for you

If you could just see this old tree, this patriarchic hierarchy, up where you want to be, you need miles of roots to lick your boots
?Don't you see

You're a man of the masses, you need all those asses, their fate to relate to the one that you were
Do you know who you are? Who are you? Not the one in your words that they buy
,They concur,you conquer, though a natural flunker
You need them to stay not fly, to obey like the dogs that they are, the cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses, your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low, and you need it to be so
See, without them you'd be nothing more than before, and you know that's not much
It's just or unjust such: just a sad little man... with his hand on his crotch

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

...The longer the spit falls

When you're rappin' your shit y'all

You're just another "Parental Advisory" sticker surfing beach boy
!Yo

We saw you every day)
with your hands on your crotch and so much to say
You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors
To neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters
,Namefucking fame on all photos

All cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters
Now when you're a star, when you've reached this far
And the world really knows who you are
(really?)
You show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do
,And the poor outside your gates appall you

And the only hood you see is the one on your car
?Do you even have a clue as to who you are

Bro, I don't think so
I mean Mercedes, what a stiff old dull fart's republican shit car
,Sick of hearing you preach to the poor like before
Only now you're a coward, only letting TV through your door
Getting older, take a bow and just go
,The rage on the stage getting colder like your hits on the chart
But then the talk shows can still get you hard
Doin' rhymes on your prime time fistfights
,And spittin' grime in the limelight like a star gets a chip off your shoulder

A boulder that rolls and rolls over and over and over

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall


You're so fucking lost that with all of the costs
You still don't see that in reality
The one thing you fail to buy yourself is a personality
You're trapped in a mould of the rap, you sell but you're sold
I mean, can't believe that you're paying all that gold to some home decorator that hands you buckets of conformity
,Seems you're losing your way together with your policy man

Ending up with a new definition of poverty - it's a joke
,Like those you make in every video to reach the kids with the dough

"With every copied "aha yo" and worn out "bro

Guess what we need is yet another clown who can feed our breed with another look and hooker hook
Now when "bitch" is mundane you take the lead with "wassup ho" and let TV blur your mouth once more
"!Just what we need in every store, thus quote the craving: "forever more

You're so right - a shiny knight on a white steed, truly a hero
Yeah right
!Fuck you - fuck you right down to the core

!You know what? You're just another "Parental Advisory" bore

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

When you're rappin' your shit y'all


(Yo)
I guess when you're that loaded you'd better empty the barrel
?Every chance you get, is that so

,Empty your word and pose magazine, in magazine after magazine

Let every shot go, let the shit flow
'!Cause the show must go on and on and on - you're it bro

But it's sad to know, when your star implodes, all that shit hits the fans, just like your words back when you shone
,But it's getting late in the game, trapped in repeating your name, again and again

Like you're scared we'll forget it
Can't blame you, apart from that name you're all embarrassingly the same, it's so lame - can't you get it?
And perhaps you are right in that fear - more sane than you appear in your self deploring cock obsessive koks delirium
But I say, to me you just redefine the old romans' vomatorium

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you claim that you have fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

You're a man of the masses, took all the classes
Their asses are yours
All those bores who are paying the bills for your palace uphills
And your pills that will help you proceed in your greed
,You are free of the chains that you need on your fans to adore, to kneel down before you

More precious to you than your brains and your hands
!They live for you

If you could just see this old tree, this patriarchic hierarchy, up where you want to be, you need miles of roots to lick your boots
?Don't you see

You're a man of the masses, you need all those asses, their fate to relate to the one that you were
Do you know who you are? Who are you? Not the one in your words that they buy
,They concur,you conquer, though a natural flunker
You need them to stay not fly, to obey like the dogs that they are, the cogs under the hood of your Mercedes car
They will pay for your trip to the stiff upper lip
You're a man of the masses, your trip is a journey through classes
You are high, they are low, and you need it to be so
See, without them you'd be nothing more than before, and you know that's not much
It's just or unjust such: just a sad little man... with his hand on his crotch

There's nothing like a broken childhood
There's nothing like a broken home
There's nothing like a tale from your hood
There's nothing like a record of restriction orders
Outspoken borderline disorders, a violent long way to the top
...The longer that you fought yourself up, the longer the spitfall

...The longer the spit falls

When you're rappin' your shit y'all

You're just another "Parental Advisory" sticker surfing beach boy
!Yo