The only cribs that we should care for Are the ones that we are here for The ones belonging to our children That do that we do, scar from our wounds
The only cribs that make a difference Where the magic really happens Don't come with a Mercedes Benz Or a wide screen showing nothing Showing nothing...
I'm sick of home control devices Sick of sickening home designers Sick of drugs and gold and strip poles Sick of homies, sick of poses
Despite the nodding staff that serves you Despite your name on clothes and perfume Despite the way the press observes you You're just people... you're just people...
Successful people Dressed up people Smiling people Famous people Red carpet people Wealthy people Important people - But still just people
So fuck the million dollar kitchen Fuck the Al Pacino posters Fuck the drugs, the gold, the strip poles Fuck the homies, fuck the poses Fuck the walls they build around them Fuck the bedroom magic nonsense I don't want to hear their voices As long as they vote with their wallets
Fuck the silly "throw you out" joke Fuck the framed cigar DeNiro smoked Fuck their lack of originality and personality Fuck this travesty Fuck this new norm Fuck conformity Fuck their Kristal Fuck their sordity Fuck the way they fuck equality Fuck their freebie gear Fuck the ones they wear
(you're just people - you're just people...)
Successful people Dressed up people Smiling people Famous people Red carpet people Wealthy people Important people - But still just people
Messed up people Shallow people Stupid people Plastic people Meta people Theta people Therapyople Entropyople
Oh, fuck the ones they wear
I'm cribcaged Cribcaged
The only cribs that we should care for Are the ones that we are here for The ones belonging to our children That do what we do, scar from our wounds