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