| Aw shit, I’m back in the rat race again
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| And what’s worse, most of these fuckin' rats are my friends
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| And worse still I’ve lost my map so I don’t know where this shit ends
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| Aw shit, I’m back in the rat race again
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| As I wake up with the previous night still ringing in my fragile head
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| Trying to piece together any shitty thing I might’ve done or might’ve said
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| I drag my lifeless carcass to it’s feet and out of bed and clock in to another
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| day
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| Another day within which I can look forward to the possibility that,
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| maybe today will be the day that something interrupts the never ending list of
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| mundane tasks that sit between me and the closing bracket of my drive home
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| Maybe today’ll be the day that something snaps as I think back and react to the
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| distinct lack of impact in my shrink wrapped life
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| Maybe today’ll be the day that I’ll tear down the foundations of my whole
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| existence and start again
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| Knee deep in the rubble, rummaging, for something that I can use as a starting
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| point
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| Something to jump off of
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| But then, the future ain’t what it used to be
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| And as the day’s tasks reverberate around my dormant brain, I continue to greet
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| another member of public with a perfect replica of what is known as a welcoming
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| smile
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| I switch off all unnecessary facets and glide through the day on cruise control
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| remembering what life was like before this role
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| And as I stare blankly from my till point I start to tap my feet to the
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| discreet beat the general public secretes
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| The footsteps
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| The breathing
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| That one baby screaming
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| The coughing and the heaving
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| Those unruly kids out thieving
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| But before long, my creative daydream is once again interrupted by the ever
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| watching eyes of the management
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| See, like a child spinning in circles just to make himself dizzy,
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| my only real requirement in this place is to make sure I look busy
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| But I’m using that to my advantage, see
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| 'cause just as not every open eye is seeing, not every closed eye is sleeping
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| So while they pay me for this paint by numbers shit
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| Every thought I have, I’m keeping
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| And remember, the same shit can taste pretty different if they season it right
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| So if youre gonna sell out your beliefs, make sure your reasons are watertight
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| And as the chief worker bee tries his best to nurture me and searches deep to
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| help me find the key that might just unlock and help me free the,
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| buried inner-bourgeoisie, that with time and effort I could someday be secure
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| in a place of great integrity rooted deep within the company’s family tree
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| taking bullet point steps from A to Z leaping over the boring parts like a
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| corporate flea. |
| I look at my supposed luminary, and I simply don’t agree
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| And I’ll sell my soul, I’m just waiting for an appropriate fee
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| No penny loafer wearing fuck’s gonna short change me
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| Scroobius P-I-P till I D-I-E
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| So fuck it, I’m back in the rat race again, but that’s cool
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| Because amongst these rats I’ve found some straight up true friends
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| And I’ve started drawing my own map, you ain’t gonna believe where this shit
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| ends
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| Aw shit, I’m back in the rat race again |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rat Race, artist - Scroobius Pip. Album song No Commercial Breaks / Words - Live at the Royal Albert Hall Algar Room, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп