Lyrics Breakfast Meat - Greaseball

I've returned to my domain, where they all know the name
But quickly I've learned it's not the same
The whole agenda has been ditched, I scrambled through my notes
There's nothing here about any of this shit
So I'm here to call a audible, whoa, didn't think I had it, did ya
Yeah, the kid been known before to muster up that magic in him
I've been letting wack rappers have their fun
I've been letting hags cackle in the sun
And I've been kicking back, although you didn't ask
I'm badder than they come
I've been flipping through your rhyme book
And ripping out each chapter one by one
What you writ was trash, and I'm just spitting facts
Faster than they come, you must be skipping class
Or you just happen to be dumb, I'll bet you didn't pass
Simple ass, jacking off at lunch, sho you gon' get the wrath
Kid I was in the lab, while you were rapping on that bus
I'll take this whole scene with me, that shit ain't happening to us

You have not yet learned that in this life
You have to be like everyone else
No better, no worse
Individuality's a monster, and it must be strangled in its cradle
To make our friends feel comfortable

Who walk through your house show no weaponry
Brews for anybody standing next to me
Assumed the friendly thoughts mode
Rocked the show and watched as they accepted me
A dude of many thoughts
I would cruise to Denny's often for the specialty
Liked the beats and now you having eggs with me
She liked the microphone to the bone now the breakfast meat
I meet my macros, I keep an ear close
I beat my heroes at things they've inspired me to do
I keep a backbone, I need this here flow like you need dinero
So you best believe I know that fire when it's true
Who walk through your house show with no guitarist
Who would've thunk that that drunk dude could go the farthest
Some might think a few things that they know is heartless
But they can't stomach that one fact that I know's the hardest
And it's because they're heartless, like they don't got no heart
So they don't know us awful people make the strongest art

You know, I often thought that the gangster and the artist
Are the same in the eyes of the masses
They are admired in hero worship
But there is always a present underlying wish
To see them destroyed at the peak of their glory