I, met a boy, wearing Vans, 501s, and a
Dope, Beastie-tee, nipple rings,
New tattoos that claim that he
Was OGT,
back from ’92,
on the first EP.
And in between
Sips of Coke
He told me that
He thought
We were sellin’ out,
Layin’ down,
Suckin’ up
To the man.
Well now I’ve got some
Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point your finger
You should know that
I’m the man,
And if I’m the man,
Then you’re the man, and
He’s the man as well so you can
Point that fuckin’ finger up your ass.
All you know about me is what I’ve sold you,
Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever even heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record,
Dip shit,
And then you bought one.
I’ve got some
Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point your finger
You should know that
I’m the man,
If I’m the fuckin’ man
Then you’re the fuckin’ man as well
So you can
Point that fuckin’ finger up your ass.
All you know about me is what I’ve sold you,
Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record,
Dip shit,
And you bought one.
All you read and
Wear or see and
Hear on TV
Is a product
Begging for your
Fatass dirty
Dollar
Shut up and
Buy, buy, buy, my new record
Buy, buy, buy, send more money
Fuck you, buddy.
Fuck you, buddy.
Fuck you, buddy.
Fuck you, buddy.
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