and you die where you born
and fuck what you've been told
shaved hair running through the snow
boy with the frostbit skull
now back to tell 'em once more
the young white mac came back with the flow
never had money or hometown pride
from the views to the drugs
looking at the world only way they know how
throw away your time til they throw you in the ground
i don't like you i don't like your friends
looking at the ones at the so called top
looking at us for the so called props
can't replicate nothing that we done
i hope you know the money that you makin' ain't a thing bitch