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