| Lyrics: | Verse 1:
These ideas are nightmares,
white parents whose first fear is a child with dyed
hair,
and who like earrings,
like whatever they say has no bearing,
its so scary in a
house that allows no swearing,
to see him walking around with his headphones blaring,
alone
his own zone, cold and he dont care,
he's a problem child, what bothers him all comes
out,
when he talks about his f***in Dad walking out,
cuz he hates him so bad that he blocks
him out,
if he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out,
his thoughts are wacked, his
mad so his talkin back,
talkin black, brainwashed from rock |
