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So I wrote this song once - out of loveAbout a scrubIn a crowded club or loungeSurrounded by these hounds and thugsAnd he goes home and he pouts becauseWell first of all, his ears hurt from shoutin stuffTrying to flirt when the sound is upSo he already feels down and plusHe just got clowned and stuck out so many timesThat now hes out of touchWell as the story goes, that boy never found his luckSleeps in his folks' houseOn the couch or just around the rugLegs spread starfish-styleMouth is upLoud as whatYou know childish stuffThe things you do when you're lonelyBut homies gotta be all proud and suchLike 'we don't love them hos'That's what they all sayStill I seen many fall prey to a doll faceThey sayin I ain't all straightCause dimes recognize me now in the hallwayAnd flash a smile, I pass em quick with a small waveSongtexteBasically punk em so my boys get mad and punch meIn the junk til my balls acheLook out the window and there's rainstormsI let the wind blow out a brain stormShad's back on that emo tipOh good.The scarf and the tight jeans complete the whole lookWhy don't you go cookSome vegan food and rent The NotebookWe all need a good cry shad, you so should!Then maybe you'll feel betterAnd won't put together another lame long love songWith no hook!Go sniff a rose bush and learn how to rap againI thought you got your flow back, what happened manYou had that super difficult, seven syllables at the minimalA-typical schemes and you packed em inNow oyu slack and when you rappin, you have to grinCause you know that them rhymes is as wack as sinAnd not half as dope as you had em thenShad dude, when was the last time you grabbed a penAnd worked your brains out, spat flames outYou tame nowSort of got this half-way lame styleAnd this is sort of an aside, but you've gained poundsSpending all day layed out on that same couch!Whatever happened to 'I want a clair huxtable'And 'the only rap videos I make are instructional'I think you got a little bit too comfortableAnd you still out of love, so what you gonna do... Aus Songtexte Mania