[1: Introducing Star]
(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 s**t 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
[2: Thus Quote The Craving]
You're so f*****g 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 "b***h" 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
f**k you - f**k 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 s**t y'all
[3: Redefining Vomatorium]
(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 s**t 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 s**t
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...
[4: Man Of The Masses]
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 s**t y'all
[5: YO]
You're just another "Parental
Advisory" sticker surfing beach boy
Yo!
