Riot Nrrrd

This song goes out to those with coke bottle glasses To all you lonely kids who were the last pick in gym classes We got your back - detract your malefactors All you up in the back unite like Thundercats Get up, get up, 'cause we're fed up, fed up Try to rise and keep your head up, head up Leave the kinging to Kong, we'll be singing our song Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on It's a sentimental journey Presenting sentiments of resentment that would burn me Unearthing archives of sharp knives turning blunt My road is to unfold, so I gotta face the front I used to spend my days dazed and confused 16 year underdog still donning Under-roos Sorry Busta, I know my flow sounds used Written and directed by the likes of John Hughes Recycled recitals of rewritten idylls Are scrawled in the hall like Anthony Michael I lack land and title, just one of the boys On islands and islands of misfit toys CHORUS My field of dreams was a parking lot With hot shots doing donuts and pissin' off the grown-ups Me on the side writing unrequited love letters That I would send to my imaginary girlfriend I had to pretend 'cause I never played football The kid drafted last pick at the roll call To ease the monotony of everybody mockin me I spent time to tend rhymes like botany Now what I want to be? What you want to be? Maybe famous, I claim this, try to gain this But sometimes it's heinous the way the shameless Surround me like a tide and drown me So I'm looking for intelligent life forms I'm looking for a blip on the screen So I can reach out and touch somebody, anybody Everybody Oooo Wah Oooo Wah Oooo Wah, Oooo Oooo Oooo Oooo