Baby Boy's got a bad attitude and he'd like to tell you where you've fallen short. Elite or insecure... you tell me.
Rome is gonna burn With the fury of a God. This six string dynamite will ignite A revolution. These notes are not frequencies These words are not poetry... Listen up Boy We've got the new noise. We'll share it with you, But you make the choice...
Elite or insecure? How can we know for sure? We'll throw him overboard... Just let him drown.
Baby Boy's got a bad attitude And he'd like to tell you where you've fallen short. Elite or insecure... you tell me.
Open your eyes; Why cant you see That it is that inspires me? Shed the burden of this visage; Take off the mask, ignore the mirage... Do not listen, you are your own. Rollow your own path, reap what you sow.
Nero's fingertips, like a noose around the neck, nimbly dancing until rubble is all that's left. Thumbs down for you, gladiator, your black grown flooding Hades. Marching down, step by step, a faux facade parade. Baby boy, you've got to go...
(Elite or insecure) Baby boy, you know there's nothing to see So listen up, hear me out, and face the reality That you don't know me; You think that you own me; I don't care about a single thing That you show me. Everyone knows They should be watchin their toes When the names start droppin' And your ego show shows So give up now, before it's too late; Just turn and leave, while you can still save face