you like gold bestowed upon the poor
you like neighbors, know yours are all white
your political correctness is a pose, mister michael moore
you bash fundamentalists' views as you get rich cuz they're enforced

and you feel - think not, dude
you're just feely - think not, dude
how your socialist-type entitlements uproot what's truth

you like fame, but only cuz the money serves your gut
freedom gives you a way to receive
but it's obvious to fathom you're a man who bleeds for 'ssistance for lowlifes
you're so obvious allergic to the sound of independence, insures no perfect life

so you feel - think not, dude
you're just feely - think not, dude
and for goes-around/equal comes-around, you'd sue
dub'u and woo through movies, dude, you fool

you're owed love, owed money, owed skills from the world

well, there's an apprehensive, shaking, strong and competent boy with his head in his hands
and there's an overestimated, ne'er berated skinny girl paid to thwart gangs

and you feel - think not, dude
you're just feely - think not, dude
how your equal rights can deny the guys aptitudes, you drool
to move our views

grow up, grow up, you're fucking far-left
don't suck your thumb, you fucking debtor
get out, get out of here, just leave u s a
grow up, grow up, there is none father!

grow up!

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