Faces of The Masses
We're cool.
Our creations, destined to rule.
Our hope destroyed by your disingenuous tales,
You make us out to be lazy
And when we chant you call us crazy
We beat our drums and barbaric we become
While you who lived in caves
Well that's the mark of humandom.
Now, a few thousand years later,
We remain cool.
Now our coolness the source of your food
Yet still not cool enough to be in your daughter's school,
Not cool enough to eat of what we
willingly, yet unknowingly, provided for you.
Yet still we stand on billboards and pose for magazines, all of which profit you. Making us fools. But hey we're cool.
We sag, and your kids do too
Except for them it's a cute teen phase
While for us it signifies criminality is our rave
We spit bars for you to dab
Making fun of what's ours labeling it as a fad
You rule, we're schooled.
Until the day comes, when the jokes on you.