An Ode to the Wise (of today)
(explicit content)
You’ve been believing, for a while, that you’re really hot on insights
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Motherfucker, with your mind, you have just been flying kites
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Mistaking your cynicism for a fucking gifted third eye
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Making sweeping judgement calls, just like that, on the fly
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You see people, you judge them, if they're not how you are
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You box people, you tag them, taking judging way too far
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You sound heavy, you sound wise, really you’re a fucking ass
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Delivering all your random shit, with a mother load of sass
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Real wisdom comes from sweating, and it comes from real suffering
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Not from watching YouTube videos, and posting shit while the next one’s buffering
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Real insight comes from knowing just how humble you ought to be
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It doesn’t come from sounding wise, just because you got to be
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Let me tell you a little something, if you've got the patience now
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The truly wise, when they speak, don’t care if the audience is going "wow"
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The deeper truth, spoken in peace, doesn’t care for a fucking stage
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But you’re so hellbent to check for 'likes' coz IG once had called you a sage
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With a smartphone and our fingers, we all think we can turn the trick
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Belting out little nuggets of wise, like a motherfucking supermarket ascetic
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Then the lights go out, we come back home, a dark room with a lit up screen
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And we start all over again, looking cool and wise as we preen
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The problem is your follower count, that makes you think you're a fucking star
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Faceless strangers, and some bots, lead you to believe you can set the bar
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So there you go, all over again, sounding wise and looking cool
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While real people leave through the back door but you’re too busy, you fucking fool
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But you are not a real star, and you don't know what fame can do
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And even though the fame ain’t real, it’s causing real damage to you
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Fame’s a bitch, with an endless itch, and it will extract its pound of meat
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But you don’t know all that do you? You’ve only seen her till now in heat
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But when it hits you, and sure it will, one day or one random night
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When the sledgehammer of real sorrow, comes at you from out of sight
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Then you’ll look up from your screen and realise it’s just you and your shadow
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Sinking into the fucking swamp, made by you and fame, that hoe
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I have no clue what you'll do then, guess what, that makes two of us
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Maybe one last suicide post? As you roll under that moving bus?
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I have no clue, like I said, because we all haven’t reached there yet
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But it would be cool to watch, coz it’s coming, you can bet
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Then you have my good wishes. Haha, just kidding, go fuck yourselfie
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When life humps you, in the asshole, I bet you won’t be clicking that belfie
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That’s a selfie, of a butt, for the benefit of the cunts you’re training
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I can already see them waiting, in a line, no bargaining
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It’s a pity the world ain’t stopping, for some of us to just get down
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So we’re stuck with the smartphone wielding, motherfucking wiseass clown
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But that’s okay coz some of us were trained to take the bad with the good
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Personally though, I sometimes still wonder, what the fuck lies 'neath your hood
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