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Kurt Cobain

All the cool kids in the North wishin' they were Southern

So they wear boots and drink whiskey just like Waylon

All the cool kids in the heart of Dixie try to shake they accent

Before they move to Portland

All the thugs dress like punks with studded leather belts

Denim vests, and they start skateboarding, na na na

While all the punks dress like thugs with New Era fitted caps

Snapbacks, white ones, and some clean Air Jordans

Kurt Cobain can smash all the guitars he like cause he was rich as fuck

Just like John Lennon

And these days no one ever drowns in quicksand

Or dies from the plague, yup, the golden age is boring

I swore I heard, Andre 3K, say one day, ay

That "Rap was a young man's game,"

I never thought I'd be pushing fucking 33 see? Still

Making a living off the things that I say

But hey, Rap is dead

Punk is dead

We all seen that T-shirt

When the drugs kick in and it thumps like this

Dancing 'til our feet hurt

Some old man is swearing

"Vote for me, it ain't gon' be worse!"

But I hate to burst your bubble baby

It's gon' be worse!

So me first, leave first, Katrina breaks them damn dykes

What would you do for some freedom and a Klondike?

I'll screw with you when our bosses all just decide life

Would be better for them if they laid you off and just said goodnight

Gun pulled on me by a cop one time

Four guns pulled on me in Atlanta last night

What struck me as funny is that both damn times

The conversation started with the exact same line!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!I'm from the state of the 20g rim

Sitting up under five hundred dollar lemon

Pushing this whip, best be bringing your friends

Because you'll be pushing this whip when it breaks down again

I'm from the nation of that war on drugs

40 billion a year, can't ball like us

They, bring in the coca, and we bring in the guns

Just kill a few soldiers push the coke price up

It's all, lucrative business, lipstick-on-a-pig shit

Yeah the, coupe is horrendous but the rims are stupendous

Go ahead and just tell me you know how you can end this

Middle of the mall ball till you fall with a fake-ass pendent

While you waiting in line to cop an iPhone 5

So you can blog some pictures of places

You been in your life

Go on and bump this on your Beats By Dre at work

Staring at the sky

My homies said, "fuck a business loan!"

They stole copper pipes

Rap is dead, Punk is dead, we all seen that t-shirt

Drugs kick in and it thumps like this

Dancing 'til our feet hurt

Some old man is swearing

"Vote for me! It ain't gon' be worse!"

But I hate to burst your bubble, baby

It's gon' be worse!

So fuck them and fuck this!

I'm off to live my own life

What would you do for some freedom and a Klondike?

I'm fucking through, so from now on I am on my

All news is bad news

Everything is alright

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Put up your hands!

C'mon and put up your hands!

Your hands!

Damn!

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