Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Scapegoat, artist - ATMOSPHERE. Album song Overcast!, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.01.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
Scapegoat |
It’s the caffeine, the nicotine, the milligrams of tar |
It’s my habitat, it needs to be cleaned, it’s my car |
It’s the fast talk they use to abuse and feed my brain |
It’s the cat box, it needs to be changed, it’s the pain |
It’s women, it’s the plight for power, it’s government |
It’s the way you’re given knowledge, slow with thought control and subtle hints |
It’s rubbing it, it’s itching it, it’s applying cream |
It’s the foreigners sightseeing with high beams, it’s in my dreams |
It’s the monsters that I conjure, it’s the marijuana |
It’s embarrassment, displacement, it’s where I wander |
It’s my genre, it’s Madonna’s videos |
It’s game shows, it’s cheap liquor, blunts, and bumper stickers with rainbows |
It’s angels, demons, gods, it’s the white devils |
It’s the monitors, the soundman, it’s the motherfucking mic levels |
It’s gas fumes, fast food, Tommy Hil', and mommy’s pill |
Columbia House Music Club, designer drugs, and rhyming thugs |
It’s bloods, crips, fives, six |
It’s stick up kids |
It’s Christian conservative terrorists, it’s porno flicks |
It’s the east coast, no it’s the west coast |
It’s public schools, it’s asbestos |
It’s mentholated, it’s techno |
It’s sleep, life, and death |
It’s speed, coke, and meth |
It’s hay fever, pain relievers, oral sex, and smoker’s breath |
It stretches for as far as the eye can see |
It’s reality, fuck it, it’s everything but me |
On and on and on and on |
The list goes on and on and on and on |
It’s all according that life on a whole |
It’s in the water, it’s in the air, it’s in the meat |
It’s indirect, indiscrete, inconsistent, incomplete |
It’s in the streets, every city and everywhere you go |
In every man it’s the insanity, the fantasy, the casualties |
It’s the health care system, it’s welfare victims |
It’s assault weapons, it’s television religion, and it’s false lessons |
It’s cops, police, pigs with badges, guns, and sticks |
It’s harassment and a complex you carry when you’re running shit |
It’s wondering if you get to eat, it’s the heat |
It’s the winter, the weather |
It’s herpes, and it’s forever |
It’s the virus that takes the lives of the weak and the strong |
It’s the drama that keeps on between me and my seed’s mom |
It’s that need to speak long, it’s that hunger for attention |
It’s the wack, who attack songs of redemption |
It’s prevention, It’s the first solution |
It’s loose, it’s out for retribution |
It’s mental pollution, and public execution |
It’s the nails that keep my hands and feet to these boards |
It’s the part time job that governs what you can afford |
It’s the fear, it’s the fake |
It’s clear it can make time stop |
And leave you stranded in the year of the snake |
It’s the dollar, yen, pound, it’s all denominations |
It’s hourly wages for your professional observations |
It’s on your face and it’s in your eyes |
It’s everything you be |
Cause it ain’t me, motherfucker, cause it ain’t me, uh |