All I Hears The Same Old sh** These Days
All i hear about is where your bands gonna play
Whilst your serving me a Latte
Too many big talkers around here afraid
Too many rich kids taking over the charts
You can't get in
Unless your Will Smiths Next Of Kin
Where's the real artists?
The real struggling
There on the underground
Doing the real husstle
With the labels
Shuffle the cards
Take miles instead of yards
It's all a big Charade
But what have i got to complain about
When men like me in japan have just been a washed out
There's no doubt you've had it to easy
Easy peasy lemon squeezy
It's just not me
You lost all your talent bt the sea
This town, the Cul-de-sac of creativity
A random traveller is what i want to be
Left home a long time ago
Without any Clarity