Have you prepared a speech?
I just knew I had to get here,
and I knew I wanted you to listen.
To really listen, not just pull a face
like you do the rest of the time.
A face like you're feeling
You pull a face and poke it towards
La -di -da, we sing and dance
you don't see people up here,
And the faker the fodder is,
is the only thing that works
Fake fodder is all that we
Real pain, real viciousness,
Yeah, stick a fat man up a pole
and we'll laugh ourselves feral,
because we've earned the right.
and he's slacking the scum,
Because we're so out of our
we don't know any better.
All we know is fake fodder
That's how we speak to each other,
How we express ourselves is buying shit
That's not even there, we buy shit
Show us something real and
If it's only so much wonder
Ooh, tiny cells and tiny screens
And bigger cells and bigger screens
And fuck you! I know you feel it
Rap is whack, so I'm back to spittin'
Middle -aged men never learn to fit in
Every other artist talk ass and licorice, yo
I know you feel it, that gnawing,
Blogging, tagging, thumbing,
Streaming, memeing, content coma
Everything is free, but I'm bored as shit
My malaise don't fit in the animated gif
I have feelings that can't be
Even the most freestyle now sounds written
All coalesce into four big kick drums
What's the new sound, yo? Lies
while I look you in the eyes kid
I'm the last naked voice you recognize
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the water
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the water
that runaway sigh is that greater good
That real thin line between
That nature's end, that Irish fold
That gods are men whose minds are full
Yo, I feel the heavy knock,
prefer when the levy breaks
No more history, no mistakes
Your life is cake, but something is wrong
Your artists failed to write that song
That illustrates this encrypted love
That we take to like swine to mud
That Icarus blood that shoots you up
And wears you out like fitted gloves
You shackled doves, you mired saints
Embrace the canvas, erase the paint
You know this road cannot end well
We'll burn in heaven, you choirs of hell
I wanna get back into the
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the water
Ay I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the water
Ay I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the water
Hey, I wanna get back into the,
I wanna get back into the,
we gotta get back into the water, hey