I have a friend in Hyderabad who's a DJ in some club. When I had met him on my recent trip to the city, he asked me to pen down a few lines for him to rap during the songs' interludes. The crowd loved it. I hope you guys do too.
*Warning- The subject material is serious, the lyrics dark, and language very coarse. If you are looking for something more sugary, steer away.
Here it goes:-
Remember when you told me how's the world so cool?
And how everybody's in it to win and rule
And then the way you'd always point at me and say-
"Don't worry kid, someday you'll have your day"
Remember the time you thought I was sun & moon?
And now, to you I am just another fucking loon
Just what makes you think I got you down?
Is it coz I ain't an ass-kisser in a fancy gown?
Remember the time I played, and you clapped & cheered?
And now you crush my heart when you say I'm weird
Which brings me down to asking you this thing-
If you didn't want me, what made you wear a fucking ring?
And give me, of all things, my fucked-up life
Which is full of this trash, unending strife
My mother's gone, and so's your wife
And your words cut in like a knife
You are left without a companion, I get you are bitter
But look across the table; I ain't no better
You leave with your friends, for times that are sweeter
And leave to me rut in this screwed-up gutter!
And I meet two-faced people who always say-
"Oh, don't worry, kid, you'll still have your day"
To all those oily bitches who wish me luck
All I wanna say to them is - "Fuckitty-fuck!"
I don't wanna your luck, your false sympathy!
You slimy-faced buggers! You're shit! You're naathin'!
I just wanna live my life, is it so tough?
To just let me live for once- free and rough?
Or you wanna me to dress in a coat and gown?
So that you hold your head high in the town?
And when the sun finally goes sinking down
I look in the mirror; all I see is a fucking clown
What makes you think amounts to success?
Is it money in the banks, life lived to excess?
What about how I want to live?
Or is it that, like mommy, you wanna me to leave?
*Dedicated to the memories of a childhood friend who committed suicide after suffering from severe post-traumatic stress when he lost his job in the times of recession. May his soul rest in peace.
*Warning- The subject material is serious, the lyrics dark, and language very coarse. If you are looking for something more sugary, steer away.
Here it goes:-
Remember when you told me how's the world so cool?
And how everybody's in it to win and rule
And then the way you'd always point at me and say-
"Don't worry kid, someday you'll have your day"
Remember the time you thought I was sun & moon?
And now, to you I am just another fucking loon
Just what makes you think I got you down?
Is it coz I ain't an ass-kisser in a fancy gown?
Remember the time I played, and you clapped & cheered?
And now you crush my heart when you say I'm weird
Which brings me down to asking you this thing-
If you didn't want me, what made you wear a fucking ring?
And give me, of all things, my fucked-up life
Which is full of this trash, unending strife
My mother's gone, and so's your wife
And your words cut in like a knife
You are left without a companion, I get you are bitter
But look across the table; I ain't no better
You leave with your friends, for times that are sweeter
And leave to me rut in this screwed-up gutter!
And I meet two-faced people who always say-
"Oh, don't worry, kid, you'll still have your day"
To all those oily bitches who wish me luck
All I wanna say to them is - "Fuckitty-fuck!"
I don't wanna your luck, your false sympathy!
You slimy-faced buggers! You're shit! You're naathin'!
I just wanna live my life, is it so tough?
To just let me live for once- free and rough?
Or you wanna me to dress in a coat and gown?
So that you hold your head high in the town?
And when the sun finally goes sinking down
I look in the mirror; all I see is a fucking clown
What makes you think amounts to success?
Is it money in the banks, life lived to excess?
What about how I want to live?
Or is it that, like mommy, you wanna me to leave?
*Dedicated to the memories of a childhood friend who committed suicide after suffering from severe post-traumatic stress when he lost his job in the times of recession. May his soul rest in peace.