Tekst piosenki
[Esoteric sample]
::Nah, nah just a verse::
„We’re Famous” was roach motel
And you crawled right the fuck in it
You forgot I’m a goddamn savage
With a record of always winnin’
You don’t really think that you’re tough
Or that anyone is duckin’ you
We played a sold-out show in Boston last week
Where the fuck was you?
The very first jam on the set was „We’re Famous”
I gotta say it was a live show
That song is a crowd favorite
I feel great in Boston, relaxed with good energy
You should go there sometime
Make the twenty minute trek from Beverly
You got the gumption to fuck with El-P
When you’re writing songs for wrestlers on the WB?
Goddamn, was it that bad or were you just born a whore?
What’s the point of selling out if it doesn’t help you sell in stores?
Didn’t you hear, dawg: wrestling is fake
Just grown men in Speedos simulating gay rape
Is this what you dreamed of your career when you sent me that tape?
Then in a year you would sell less than Aesop Rock on his first day?
::I study from the blueprint::
I think that shit’s upside-down
Cause the ceiling of your career should be laying on the ground
::You’re as hip hop as Eddie Vedder::
At least I’ve got a ::Evenflowww::
Man, you could fit your whole fanbase on the bridge of your nose
Nobody cares about your records
No one’s scared of your friends
Nobody wants to do business
Nobody wants to invest
Not impressed with your trust fund money
Not in awe of your daddy’s Benz
Don’t care if you wear Prada (Why?)
Cause Prada is for gay men
Just an excuse to sharpen my blade and remind you who I am
I’m the guy who sold eighty-thou worldwide and a child that sold ten
I’m a man with a happy fanbase
You’re the bitch with no niche
The biggest contribution to the music was introducing me to Lif
(Bee-otch! The truth hurts motherfucker)
Face it, nobody feels you in the street
You will never appeal to the mainstream
You’re a permanent opening act for the lower half of the indie scene
You are not making an impact, you have very few fans
You are a complete failure, you are not nice with the hands
Your legacy depresses me, mediocrity for years
Your records move off the shelf as quick as Norm off a barstool, Cheers!
Here’s an El-P beat for free, I won’t tax you
Save that money for the next time you need to hire a black man to rap for you
You’re really bringin’ it back, man, nobody still says „herb”
I wet your girl’s pussy on my keyboard, how you think I made Vital Nerve?
[Sex sounds, three piano key intro of „Vital Nerve” plays]
Check this:
I’ve had a long, public career
There’s a lot of cats that wish I fell
There’s a lot you could say about me
Just nothing you could say well
I’ve been through this before
This type of shit don’t make me nervous
I should have known you would be next with a record called „Soul Purpose”
::I-I-I’m down with East Coast::
How the fuck you thought that?
I always thought that you were talentless
Always considered you a fake cat
Always hated the rich kids in school
They never had no true grit
They always thought expensive clothes and a hand-me-down whip made ’em the shit
And you’re the definition of something kids should get with?
Cause your man bear-hugged Cage that means that you could swing fists?
What is this, a mother fuckin’ joke?!
You got Ted Kennedy’s voice and flow like Jay-Z after a stroke
Saw the cover of your album
Good luck to your ska band
Standin’ in a Burberry sweatsuit on the corner, looking for SoundScans
Don’t you watch B.E.T.? Burberry’s for women
How’s the son of a millionaire gonna judge what another man’s dipped in?
I could step to you in a leotard and still have a tradition
With a trucker hat that says „Eso mommy blew me
And wiped her tits off in the kitchen”
Oh no, you’re not a nerd
You’re in the clubs singin’ the „Thong Song”
Only true thugs rap about Star Wars and Tauntauns
::”I’ll treat you like a Tauntaun and slash your flesh”::
::[Spoken interlude]::
You are not dangerous
You have no connections
You will never hurt anyone
You do not carry a weapon
::”I liked 'Funcrush'”::
Great: I never liked what you’ve done
If I was hypnotized I couldn’t remember the name of one of your songs
But I’m a nerd, so I research, motherfucker: be alert
Remember that?
The Transformers sample stuck between the verses?
Well that was the only song you ever had that almost worked
Too bad to get to the chorus we had to hear you rhyme first
Back when you called yourself Seamus the God Awful
That was blindingly accurate: that moniker was immaculate!
And no matter how hard you were tryin’
The only way I could stomach your voice is when Virtuoso was rhymin’
You got one of those UPS four-day ground deliveries
No one wants to sign for that package
You are a faggot
Nothing you have done until mentioning my name has ever mattered
Seven hectic minutes of awkward fury: really, I’m flattered
That Gay-sop Rock thing? Genius
Let me try: Gay-mus
Shit, I shoulda put that on my verse in „We’re Famous”
And about that verse? C’mon, don’t be offended
I was gonna say your name, dawg, I just couldn’t remember it
[Spoken word outro]
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