[Verse 1: Mathas]
In my town every butcher is the Sausage King
Every meat pie is award winninâ
But every win [?]
Come passe with all your accolades on mass within the massive
I mean, yikes, mate, [?] sentimental [?]
Better settle, petal, leavinâ all your crusts, but you still barely ate
Ego on a sandstorm, whippinâ off [?] slippers
Theyâre ruby red, doom and gloom broadcast in full effect, though
Started feelinâ like it wasnât earnt to rep on
Like awards I didnât ask for was summarisinâ my workflow
Like years that hammerĐ”d the words home, couldnât unclip the nĐ”rd bros
The herd coach, the old ropes to the new kids, say they so straight, but they donât though
This place for that new dope every new day
Till itâs old hat by the next week and a trend catch in the far east
In the right coast and itâs a no go âcause itâs too numb, but you wave hands
âLook at me glowâ, till your style tired in your own eyes and your fire cease
Tongue callous stop the speak of peace, you really mean it, geeze?
Havenât seen you once outside of meet and greets with slimy Pete
Gettinâ your brand in action, fandom traction fluffinâ
Howâs that album bufferinâ? Pixelated as fuck
[Chorus: Mathas & Drapht, Mathas]
Weâre few and far between and muffled by the leaders
Who stay winninâ
Coloured by the freedom and the features, the people in the bleachers
Who pay to see it
What they donât see is the pacin' round in circles, the paperwork weâre turfinâ
And the panickinâ
All the peasantries are shovelled out, yeah
Yeah, theyâre shovelled out
[Verse 2: Drapht]
See in my town
Everyone nods and smiles through a set of clenched teeth (Yep)
No patience in my West Wing, whole scene full of wrestlinâ
Hulk Hogans and Ric Flairs, fake savages and hitmen
Fake nice to be gifted like kids writinâ up a wishlist
But Father Christmas ainât me, youâre Nelson when accosting
You only hit me when you want things and a free ride in the bus lane
Put your hand down, ainât a handout, been ripped off like a Band-Aid
They take my blood, sweat, tears, put it in a frame, itâs theirs now
You only cared about the fame and the money in the bank, bang, bang, bang
âNother knife in the back, triflinâ act, all just a fun of big black
Ex machina [?], park in the back, try find a knife sharper than Jack
Ripperâs but youâll find it hard to extract, heart in my chest, heart full of gold
Half of them know, half of them donât, letâs just pass by like some
Ships in the night, stick to my lane, like I had graffiti on my mind
See me on the rise, donât hit my line, always climb Himalayas by myself
Thereâs no bluff, whole lotta heart with the cards I was dealt
[Chorus: Mathas & Drapht, Mathas]
Weâre few and far between and muffled by the leaders
Who stay winninâ
Coloured by the freedom and the features, the people in the bleachers
Who pay to see it
What they donât see is pacin' round in circles, the paperwork weâre turfinâ
And the panickinâ
All the peasantries are shovelled out, yeah (Shovelled out, shovelled out)
Yeah, theyâre shovelled out (Shovelled out, shovelled out)
Weâre few and far between and muffled by the leaders
Who stay winninâ
Coloured by the freedom and the features, the people in the bleachers
Who pay to see it
What they donât see is pacin' round in circles, the paperwork weâre turfinâ
And the panickinâ
All the peasantries are shovelled out, yeah (Shovelled out, shovelled out)
Yeah, theyâre shovelled out (Shovelled out, shovelled out)