| Disillusional fool stuck in menial moonstruck museums
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| Seeing nothing but the back of a tool truck
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| Believing I could fix somethin, gon' get somethin boy now fetch that
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| Cheese on top of that mouse trap, but we ain’t no clown rats
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| We built this city on sound tracks
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| And drive the locomotives around that
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| Promoters and town reps, claim to have a stake in it all yet
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| They only place a stake when the ground’s wet
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| They sit and clap for this custodian rap music
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| And use it for amusement and lack the means to do it
|
| In jest, throw a nickel in the hat as a gesture
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| Court of a couple kings showing their rings to jesters
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| And bet money they bleed before they leave get relieved
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| Of these things, out of need not of greed you breed theives
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| And blame us, offering a piece of that fame
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| But, the owners of the masters became us
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| So now what
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| What’s that
|
| We want a little
|
| They want it all
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| They gonna get it
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| I want a piece of my own, I’m stuck in the middle
|
| I want a piece of my own, I’m stuck in the middle
|
| What’s that
|
| I want a little
|
| They got it all
|
| I’m gonna get it
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| I got’em stuck off the purchase price
|
| Hustling a verse that’s twice that of the worth
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| Of any corny rappers merchandise
|
| They outta luck and couldn’t work the dice
|
| Bustin' through the surface ice
|
| Must’ve been they trusted in the worst advice
|
| That folklore the broke where a yoke for
|
| That’s choking these throats sore with hope’d for’s
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| Closed doors and glass ceilings
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| Asked to mask feelings
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| With a flask half full of that trash and bad dealings
|
| Villains get made when the minimum wage is
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| Lower than the minim for living these days its
|
| No wonder why these kids in a daze
|
| They out number the rich
|
| But on the fringe living criminal ways
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| Not on the hinge where the pendulum sways
|
| From these towers
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| These cowards who bleed these hours to feed powers
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| Ain’t a thug I believe in
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| Drug I could breath in
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| Strong enough to beat this love for reason
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| When everything I’ve heard is perverted
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| I preserve my words from absurd and blurred verdicts
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| The curb servants see her skirted inside the moon light
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| Flirting with goons burning spoons
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| See how the fumes bite
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| Streets like a balloon fight
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| Eatin' with two teeth got two blue feet that don’t move right
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| Extortion when rappers glorify this misfortune
|
| I abhor the lies that walk the line of distortion
|
| Get your check voided paying respects
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| To get you exploited
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| Wept for it they faced death and traded sex for it
|
| Explore it see the text get exported
|
| See we ignorant no contest or context for it
|
| Ignore it
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| Play it loud and vicarious
|
| Too important to be proud in all carelessness
|
| Some blame rappers but I blame their fans
|
| They both making a name off the chains of man
|
| What’s that
|
| We want a little
|
| They want it all
|
| They gonna get it
|
| I want a piece of my own, I’m stuck in the middle
|
| I want a piece of my own, I’m stuck in the middle
|
| What’s that
|
| I want a little
|
| They got it all
|
| I’m gonna get it |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Fringe , by - The Procussions. Song from the album The Procussions, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп