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[Off Topic:] Stop the presses This newsflash photography has captured translations from my autobiography January twenty-fourth, nineteen seventy nine During a snowstorm, avalanche, otherwise nice time They cut the lifeline I must not be God's son because I cried And every time they try to crucify me I survive And everything I do's infectious Despite the use of several contraceptives White blood cell immune systems of humans prove useless Slip under microscope detection And x-ray testing I am hip-hop, rock, intelligent Since you like to categorize music I make a difference while they make lists Everybody's favorite top one hundred slit wrists The artists' pick Classic edition DVD double-disc My paragraphs surpass cash rap Beyond white and black Higher than the sky reaches Deeper than an acid trip thesis I'm an egg, hard-boiled So I don't need my shell Because it's merely cosmetic SongtexteAnd I'm not show-and-tell I'm a real-life emcee, nasty as hell Because I'm not scared to work and I'm not scared to fail So spare all the talk about principals When decibels are raised to raise capital And few artists are actually factual I'll tell them straight out, I'm South Jersey Most of the country can relate to me Which fills a great vacancy of young Americans that basically Have no identities Because anything less than success by financial stability Means you spent your life on someone else's dreams And everybody knows what that means Mass suicide of senior citizens Who want to do it all again and talk about how they'd do it differently I'm taking rap to my new place, who's coming with me? [Chorus: Off Topic] Off Topic's autoautopsy file Cause of death classified Still holding the pill bottle Chemical levels don't match the lab tests So I had to grab the scalpel and cut my own chest Off Topic's autoautopsy file Cause of death classified Still holding the pill bottle I don't know what y'all heard about my death But I'm holding the hour glass up like, "Who's next?" [Off Topic:] Yo, I'm two thousand levels above these rap thugs Who claim they're street tough But shake they ass like a lightning bug And blew up Like a plastic rap explosive Pick your money up, front You can't rhyme on my cut I'm changing rappers' perspectives With E-D-Kollective And a crew of emcees that rhyme better than ya I've had enough negative flows that everybody knows Every word but they're written by a three-year-old I Bic 'em with a pen, not a razor 'Cause I'd rather deface paper Than face allegations and surrender But my rights are under attack from The Right Who think they're right, so I gotta watch what I write Yeah right, I'm taking life 'Til there's only one left Catch my breathe, it infects the immune Coming soon to a town near you I peak the interest of a special interest group They talk so holy, but all they want is recruits It's so phony, like the fancy suits I see through the polyester image and expose the Swastika tattoos And constitutional re-writes that we fight and lose That's why I do what I do I can expose the truth and mass-broadcast my views to the youth I'm Off Topic 'cause I'm steadily fresh I'm a blade of grass, watch me get cut at the chest And grow back smarter than the key to the test Stronger than emotions clouding me and got me depressed [Chorus] Aus Songtexte Mania