Mainstream 307 - Non Prophets

«Then one day it all dawned on me yo

I wasn’t down with the mainstream or should I say their team

Easier said than done

I wasn’t down with the mainstream or should I say their team

Gotta find a way

I wasn’t down with the mainstream or should I say their team

Easier said than done

I wasn’t down with the mainstream or should I say their team

Gotta find a way»

Waste away

Sad to see you go the way that you do

Today through with yesterday’s truths

You know better for the forward actions

As for your past friends, all were lost in a holocaust

Of thoughts in a backwards caption

Unlucrative talents

That used to give balance

When you had to live with two abusive parents

Waste away

Create expenses for yourself

I know you’re sensitive for the negative effects ever felt

Day to day

Jammed in between your weekly pay checks

Remember when you were free?

I seen you at your apex

Don’t tell me you’re in a better place just cause the rent is higher

Spent fuel on retirement?

You don’t know where the fire went?

Waste, the future is charcoal

Everything you make is reduced to a bar code

Everyone mistakes, payin' dues is a lost road

Going place to place faking moves when your car’s towed

Going gold with a fool’s heart

I’d rather be a fool with a heart of gold

Lose my breaks and save my truth till tomorrow

Remember when I’d hate if my beautiful scar showed?

Then one day it all dawned on me yo

The lowest common denominators let the arts suffer

The only heart you follow is road kill on your car bumper

You’re Archie Bunker caught in slumber

I hope you burn to death

With the trends that are hot this summer

You need to hold the breath you’re talking under

Until you’re close to death

And no one’s left in the pop culture you cocksucker

Freedom to choose between margarine and butter

The choice should be between fingernail clippers and lock cutters

A little something for the sweet tooth of chocolate lovers

Besides candy rappers reproducing 2Pac covers

Biggie Small wonders

Makin' milk from robotic utters

The whole motherfucking pop cultures are smothered

Back in the day

NWA made cops shudder

And 808's replaced rock drummers

Turn them into job hunters

Foundation crop dusters

You were chillin' now you sound faker than Raekwon’s stutter

Your whole essence is a stocking stuffer

On Christmas Day

I’ll open your presents with a box cutter

Give away secrets to the keys of life

While I strike these chords

I’m ignored while I counter-points Bill O’Rielly tries to score

Wipe the floor with your psyche some more

And fight the war with Michael Moore in a Nike store

Battling the general consensus of shit

As petty as it is

Das EFX rocked that band aid ten years before Nelly did!

I don’t wanna be famous like the artists on your play list

The more emotion I put into it the harder they diss

Actors with scripts thinking they ought to repent

I’d rather be rich and have a whole lot of resent

It’s the pitiful public I get from rush

While I’m busting dope lines I’m misquoted

And you might think I wrote it

For all you know it’s all for the dough

I fought off a forty O

And bought the clothes that were affordable

A Scorpio with the stinger sticking into singers and tawdry holes

Your chorus flows with an awful show of raw audio

They call me slow to adapt, I said FUCK THAT!