I'm a piece of shit with that f*ckboy brand of wit
I'm smoking cigarettes that I can't quit
Dropping words like dope and lit
Am I another Yankee boy or am I just some Yankee's toy
Rice eater with a dab of soy, timid Indian spelling coy
Because I'm falling over sideways right? And I can't seem to keep the contents tight
In my mind
Because when you stand in line it's all ok but behind closed doors it's another way
Or so they say
Or so they say
Or so they say
Am I an American if not now when or when
Because I'm trying as hard as I can, to comply with the master's plan
And I ain't really got no will, nor do I have the time to kill
Roll this boulder up the hill, start each day with a different pill
And is it really black or white, or is it really wrong or right
Out of mind and out of sight, fluorescent stain under the blacklight