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Welcome to my life (welcome)Welcome to my life (welcome)Welcome to my life (welcome)Welcome to my life where everybody wants to cipherThey’ve never held a mic, but they swear they nice,‘cause they boys told ‘em soand surely enough they suck my dick in front of they girlfriend like“Look, this is how you do it, you gotta fuckin’ do it slow then fast, slow then fast,eat that shit”, check-checkIf this is you, you’re not aloneThis world’s a rock of dronesGirls flock like birdsCause they heard lots of poems from the mystery manWhen my name gets spit it echoesStraight-laced people say grace with evil smilesI’ll stick to VelcroLet go of these claims I hold trueThis is Sage, don’t say I ain’t told youFake gold toothReal problems with garden gnomes who talk shitMy respect’s the best bargain known to the consumin’ marketSo pay me itTo my love-hate relationship with love-hate relationshipsSongtexteMakes me richMy old lady thinks that I done did itBut I done didn’tSave my breath during dramatic movie endings hold the stub of the ticketWhen credits roll I’m heading for the exit holeYour track record is such a short shelf-life bless its soulIt’s about you, all about youThat’s probably why you don’t really respect it or know how toFuck a fickle fan base, stuck a middle finger in they damn faceDoes the pinnacle of my hand taste dirty like the suggestive gestureYou’re best to drop out the school of hard knocksGet murdered by stress and pressure, pressure-cookerI leave the party with a mass amount of assed-out demo tapes to butcher“Could ya give it a little bit of a listen, bro?”Into – “do me a favor and play it on a big system though”Into – “give me a detailed critique of my hot shit”“Sure thing boss, I’ll get right on it”Oh hell no he didn’t, oh yes he done did my friendThink he was so very special among the hundred thousandYou play the fence, your flow is weak and your concepts suckIt makes no sense, slow to speak – your logic’s fuckedYou made no dents over beats that got lots of cutsNoise you do have toys like you stocked with Tonka TrunksYou’re not a lone, this world’s a rock of dronesWho rock microphones and abuse generous earsWith the “yeah, yeah . . . off the dome”You’re not a lone, this world is stocked with clonesAnd my dear Watson’s are coming to bite a style near youYou best for sure lock your homesYou best for sure lock your homesYou best for sure lock your homesYou best for sure lock your homes and beware,Beware the garden gnomes. Aus Songtexte Mania