Testo Death Of A Sellout

All your thoughts are cliche
Your words they wear me out.
Kids like you are a dime a dozen
In this lifeless town.
So hold on to your ego
And all of your false hope.
Conform to society
And the status quo.
I wanna know what it's like
To be above and divine.
Beauty is what they buy.
So if I look the part, I'll be just fine.

Woah, you're just like everybody else
Woah, you're just a product that they sell.
You're no celebrity nor anywhere near fame.
Stop acting like the whole weld knows your name.
You only sing the songs you wish you wrote.
A mirror image of what's been done before.

We don't have the sound
That can put us on the map. We're stuck in the old days
When things were not as bad.
So smile for the camera.
The genre is gone.
Things were just so golden
Until you came along.

The way you look won't define
What's being said through the mic
If they all closed their eyes
I'll be out of sight, you're out of mind.

I'm not saying I'm different
At least I'm good enough to admit it.
You're all so typical.
You're playing what sells,
A trend in which you fell for.
You're an outfit at best
At least you're oh so stylish.
So?