Anthem Songtext

von Butterfingers

Whatever happened to rapping from the backyard?
Every time you see rap stars, they're in fat cars
But we're at the other end of the spectrum
So we disrespect them and kick them in the rectum
Get a vivisection at the hospital (Get your kit off)
And I bet they're soft in the middle.
Talk a lot of shit just to fit into a mold
Stepping to the mic and representing no soul
Butterfingers bring it to you raw
Ugly as your mother and hard to the core
Like nards under floorboards, that's how I spit
With the hectic septic underground shit
Eclectically equipped, epileptically I flip between genres
Butterfingers, dropping bombs on ya's
Coming ominous like it was a monsoon
Banging like onomatopoeia goes...

Butterfingers A lot of hip-hop's a rip off but I'm a fucking chip off
The old block and don't tote a gold clock
And don't know how the fuck a mouth chocked full of diamonds
Helps with developing lyrics when your rhyming
The conundrum is none of it relates
To me or to you or to any of your mates
And I bet at this rate heads are getting bored of it
Especially when the whole regiment's fraudulent
Corny ornaments don't mean a thing but
Dingalings get their bling bling written in Wingdings
Thinking it's the in thing but you know it's only
A phoney persona for the one trick pony
If its factual, rap is demographical
This is River City and me accent's natural
Forget collateral, we're in it for the sport
I wanna thank the audience for all of their support
We step onto the court specifically to wreck it
Punk rock ethic but funky copacetic and
Poetically a headache to the critics and the censors;
Go to hell and then tell them who sent ya's...

Because life is a prison, and that's why I'm singing
To stop the domination of the bland
To air the dirty linen and give criticism
Besetting them with reprimand
With rhymes that I've written, for times that we live in
Aren't you glad someone understands?
It's the gift that keeps giving
So sit back and listen
Give props to the motherfucking band

Record executives rig the charts
So the current numbers ones can kiss my ass
When we get a turn it'll be by earning it
Because we represent the independent alternative
Can't be urban, it's just not black enough
Can't be contemporary, not whack enough
Can't be rock because we flip to hip hop in our set
Ahhhh shit, where do we fit?
Nowhere I guess, and I'm proud of that actually
Blacklisted from every single category
Except for independent which you can't dispute
You think we signed away our rights? That's kinda cute
But I recite the truth no matter how obnoxious
And we don't give a shit if we don't fit into your boxes
They should slot us into urban Aussie folklore
When that'll be a category, you'll know who to vote for

Butterfingers
(Perfect sound waves for home and workplace)
Butterfingers
(Weddings, functions, children's birthdays)
Butterfingers
(Surround sound lounge rooms, and wireless headphones)
Butterfingers
(Or Over P.A's at clubs and car stereos)