Outsiders Songtext
von REMI

Uh huh, uh huh, yes, yes

Fuck rap, fuck game, fuck gimmicks
Son, I watch, courtside, Jack Nicholson
They′re jokers, no soul, no women
And everybody want a single man, gold-digging
You know it's shit, but most of you roll with it
Find current in the mainstream, drown in it
It′s so bitch, no risk, so finished
We're so frigid, no fucks, don't fit in
But that′s cool, you can have rap

There′s more politics than Syria and Baghdad
That's why I drop bombs on ′em, the outcast pilot
Hit 'em with the drone ′til I run out of AVGAS

Then touchdown in Melbourne, hometown
Just to go and spit wax with the rest of the rap pack
Plotting how to take over the globe and make the people go like


At these young gurus, primo with the skill
Leaning at the wheel, the movement we're steering
Laughing at your videos like Key and Peele
′Cause we don't really feel the style that you're stealing
Yeah, you′re just a bunch of Winona Ryders
But you can′t even do it yourself, you need writers

To do it for you, man, it's sad, the game′s like this
While we stay outside, uh huh

Yep, we are the outsiders, again
Looks like we're the outsiders, again
Yep, we are the outsiders, again
And they won′t ever be on our side
But that's fine and dandy, the enemies don′t like MD now

Fuck blogs, fuck mags, fuck press
Tryna monetise my black card like Amex

Soon as it's a slow news day, they turn our struggle into clickbait


You turn our struggle into clickbait, oh, you are a disgrace
Make us look like we act worse than Nick Cage
Like Muhammad, we fought to get in his place
Love to all, but fuck the kid, this page
Opening doors for my skin shade, but
Media's like the hook (They never leave)
They didn′t post shit on us
Now they′ll post shit on us like a colostomy nurse (It's fucking weak)
But white rappers out here saying nigga and they′re cool with it?
Ah, I see how this works, huh

Every time you call for an interview
Tryna make me rise and fall for your ridicule

Just for Facebook likes, faves on your Twitter too
Two to too many sheep following Complex to see
What they need to Tweet, uh
Since black rights is a play of the week
They scroll our profiles, profile like police, uh
As a result, make our pain look cheap
But when it's time for real change, they don′t speak

It's hands off the keys, another reminder
For the rest of our lives we′ll be outsiders

We are the outsiders, again
Looks like we're the outsiders, again
Yep, we are the outsiders, again
And they won't ever be on our side
But that′s fine and dandy, the enemies don′t like MD now