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!