| Fuck rap, fuck game, fuck gimmicks, son
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| I watch courtside, Jack Nicholson
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| They’re jokers, no soul, no women
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| And everybody want a single man, gold diggin'
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| You know it’s shit but most of you roll with it
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| Find current in the mainstream, drown in it
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| It’s so bitch, no risk, so finished
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| We’re so frigid, no fucks, don’t fit in
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| But that’s cool, you can have rap
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| There’s more politics than Syria and Baghdad
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| That’s why I drop bombs on 'em, the OutKast pilot
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| Hit them with the drone 'til I run out of Avgas
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| Then touchdown in Melbourne, hometown
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| Just to go and spin wax with the rest of the Rat Pack
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| Plottin' how to take over the globe and make the people go like
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| Add these young gurus, Premo with the skill
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| Leaning at the wheel, the movement we’re steering
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| Laughing at your videos like Key and Peele
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| 'Cause we don’t really feel the style that you’re stealing
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| Yeah, you’re just a bunch of Winona Ryders
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| But you can’t even do it yourself, you need writers
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| To do it for you, man, it’s sad the game’s like this
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| That’s why we stay outside, uh-huh, yeah
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| We are the outsiders (Again)
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| Looks like we’re the outsiders (Again)
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| Yeah, we are the outsiders (Again)
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| And they won’t ever be on our side
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| But that’s fine and dandy
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| Being me’s all like candy now
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| Fuck blogs, fuck mags, fuck press
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| Trying to monetise my black card like Amex
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| Soon as it’s a slow news day, they turn a struggle into clickbait
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| You turn our struggle into clickbait, oh, you are a disgrace
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| Make us look like we act worse than Nic Cage
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| Like Muhammad, we fought to get in this place
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| Love to all before the kid this page
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| Open endorse for my skin shade
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| But media’s like the hub (They never leave)
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| They didn’t post shit on us, now they post shit on us
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| Like a colostomy nurse (It's fuckin' weak)
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| But white rappers out here saying «nigga» and they cool with it?
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| Ah, I see how this works, hmm
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| Every time you call for an interview
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| Trying to make me rise and fall for your ridicule
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| Just for Facebook likes, faves on your Twitter too
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| Too, t-too many sheep following Complex
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| To see what they need to tweet
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| And since Black rights is the flavour of the week
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| They scroll our profiles, profile like police, and
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| So the result make our pain look cheap
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| But when it’s time for real change, they don’t speak
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| It’s hands off the keys, another reminder
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| For the rest of our lives, we’ll be outsiders
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| We are the outsiders (Again)
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| Looks like we’re the outsiders (Again)
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| We are the outsiders (Again)
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| And they won’t ever be on our side
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| But that’s fine and dandy
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| Being me’s all like candy now |