There's always one of them in the bunch
Socializing and sticking lies in
Acting like nobody got a clue to the scenerio
When the truth comes out they're scrambling
To dodge the ball
All of this none of it for any reason
You know who I'm taking about
They try to stick their keys into your brain,
But I think we kinda had it
Type of life that ends up tragic
Do you wanna live, or do you wanna die?
Talk a lotta shit is kinda like a suicide
You could spot them from miles and miles
Got their hand in your pocket and face with a smile
I could recollect a sucker trying to play me out
Putting words in my mouth
so he would get someone to dis me for what I'm about
But youknow and I know if I got beef I shout
I'm getting sick of muthafuckers and their stupid habits
Type of life that ends up tragic...tragicwell they sent back all the bodies
who were looking really hopeless
well it didn't seem that callous
till they stopped you in your flow
she's surrounded by her wardens
and they're looking really nervous
all about the man from reuters
here to nullify your glow
everything you say will destroy you - anyway
everything you say will come haunt you
round each corner
everything you say will destroy you
well you may think that you're buddha
lying on a mound of ashes
you were mentioned in the postscript of
dispatches anyway
and the majors really nervous
when he's walking round the airport
you know your master's card is marked
your upstart charge is cool and smart
your unwanted suitor
leaves his things around your home
he's marking out his territory
he's pissing on your ansaphone
well you may think that you're buddha
lying on a mound of ashes
you were mentioned in dispatches
in the postscript anyway