Gutter

Same city whitey hail from
Same town that the strangler stole the air from
I was raised irish catholic
Never talk about your feelings
Tell them you're fantastic

Around here you're either savage or you're plastic
Drive a Benz or a broken ford maverick
They all been living a lie
Because they worship the wealth
More than they do their false God

I don't talk too much
I been living in the basement
Tryna' make a statement
I been writing all night
Young Edgar Allen with the blinds closed tight

So when I say I fucking hate myself
And when I say I lost my sanity
Just know that's not my full capacity
Could never hate myself as much as I hate humanity

Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose

Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose

What a cluster fuck I'm fucking up
They telling me to lighten up
Hit them in the brain with the same damn thing
Playing in the rain, man I'm fucked up mane
Grew up too fast, tryna' make it last

But it ain't coming back
Still an outcast, still an asshole
Tryna' get past no payroll
See I wouldn't give a fuck if I had a surplus
Intuition in my gut so I keep my mouth shut

I don't say shit unless it's about the fucking music
Homosapien equipped with the wit so I use it
Feel your flesh breaking open
And your knuckles start turning white
You been holding on for too long
Sleep all day, wide awake at night

Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose

Not a material man
I got a mic, two guitars and a dream in my hands
I see you flexing them bands like you got something to prove
Well I got nothing to lose