Someone please!
Please write a script that's made for me,
That appeals to people listening to this cd.
I got a wish, I got a wish,
That all of this was something special.
I need a drink, I need a pill,
No wait, I was over two years sober.
But this guy, he said that I was on drugs,
I should give some money to that bitch.
Or I could just get a real fucking job.
I am a prick, look at me go.
I can get lucky playing some shows, I'm a bitch.
Ima go get some new expensive shit.
Oh man, I hurt,
Emotions they suck,
But I'll just tell people, "I don't give a fuck about that shit."
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Ain't nobody fucking with me, man.
Ain't nobody fucking with me.
Rancid is the sound of my voice,
Croaking its drama across an orchestra of friendly faces,
Singing along with their dying concern.
Rancid is the sound of my voice,
Croaking its drama across an orchestra of friendly faces,
Singing along with their dying concern to my bullshit.
Where did our honor go?
I think I know.
We've all been fucking each other in bathrooms at parties.
Where did my money go?
I spent it on blow,
You know that I fucked all my homies' ho's.
Where did our morals go?
I left them in Cabo,
My parents can pay for the abortion, you know.
Who has a plan?
We hold out our hands in hope for a free ride to successful endeavors.
The weak are the liars, the strong think too much.
I am too cynical to say I don't give a fuck.
The weak are the liars, the strong think too much.
I am too cynical to say I don't give a fuck.
I need money,
I need clothes.
I need women,
I need blow.
Something is very fucking wrong.
Resting your head on your best friend's sister's shoulder.
Your mother's job is to fuck all your neighbors,
Bodies thrusting to the beat of our shame.
Where did our honor go?
I think I know.
We've all been fucking each other in bathrooms at parties.
Where did my money go?
I spent it on blow,
You know that I fucked all my homies' ho's.
Where did our morals go?
I left them in Cabo,
My parents can pay for the abortion, you know.
Who has a plan?
We hold out our hands in hope for a free ride to successful endeavors.
Give my regards to all you shady fucks,
Thorn in my fucking side.
Loyalty.
Honesty.
Trust.
Respect.
Humility.
Sincerity.
We are all so full of fucking shit.
We are all so full of fucking shit.
Artist: Grischa Lichtenberger
Artist: Too Bad Eugene
Artist: Alison Krauss