Many act like gangsters, but they're really ballerinas
And their real value's traded for a bunch of newspapers.
Others are distasteful and proud of their large waistline
A chain on their neck and and a slim brain, not a bad taste;
Welcome to the world my son and you shall see
That there are too few of us that can do a good job,
The world is full of flunky men and blockhead women
I'd be happy to give them all the red pill, sounds like a good job
But the truth however will 'upset crowd.
I know it's all about the herd mentality
And where the best ones will only be the last ones,
I become indifferent, or at least i should,
As everything shall pass and so the herd too.
I'll not whine about it and neither would embrace
Cause i know now, I wasn't born in the right place.