|
作曲 : Gildenlöw |
|
The only cribs that we should care for |
|
Are the ones that we are here for |
|
The ones belonging to our children |
|
That do what we do, scar from our wounds |
|
The only cribs that make a difference |
|
Where the magic really happens |
|
Don't come with a Mercedes Benz |
|
Or a wide screen showing nothing |
|
Showing nothing |
|
I'm sick of home control devices |
|
Sick of sickening home designers |
|
Sick of drugs and gold and strip poles |
|
Sick of homies, sick of poses |
|
Despite the nodding staff that serves you |
|
Despite your name on clothes and perfume |
|
Despite the way the press observes you |
|
You're just people |
|
You're just people |
|
You're just people |
|
Successful people |
|
Dressed up people |
|
Smiling people |
|
Famous people |
|
Red carpet people |
|
Wealthy people |
|
Important people |
|
But still just people |
|
So **** the million dollar kitchen |
|
**** the Al Pacino posters |
|
**** the drugs, the gold, the strip poles |
|
**** the homies, **** the poses |
|
**** the walls they build around them |
|
**** the bedroom magic nonsense |
|
I don't want to hear their voices |
|
As long as they vote with their wallets |
|
**** the silly "throw you out" joke |
|
**** the framed cigar DeNiro smoked |
|
**** their lack of originality and personality |
|
**** this travesty |
|
**** this new norm |
|
**** conformity |
|
**** their Kristal |
|
**** their sordity |
|
**** the way they **** equality |
|
**** their freebie gear |
|
**** the ones they wear |
|
You're just people |
|
You're just people |
|
Successful people |
|
Dressed up people |
|
Smiling people |
|
Famous people |
|
Red carpet people |
|
Wealthy people |
|
Important people |
|
But still just people |
|
Messed up people |
|
Shallow people |
|
Stupid people |
|
Plastic people |
|
Meta people |
|
Theta people |
|
Therapyople |
|
Entropiople |
|
**** the ones they wear |
|
I'm cribcaged |
|
Cribcaged |
|
The only cribs that we should care for |
|
Are the ones that we are here for |
|
The ones belonging to our children |
|
That do what we do, scar from our wounds |