Follow those illin' rhymes, bitches.
You want it? You got it. Bitch.
Raggin' on Coldplay, you think that's bold?
With all those shitty albums those bitches sold?
If you think those punk-ass bitches are dull
You clearly need to listen to Interpol
In just one listen
You'll know their mission
Was to rip off
And pimp off
Of Joy Division
Now I gotta say I'm pissed
'Cause my man Curtis is missed
But he don't seem so stiff
Compared to these Brits' riffs
An album pimpin'
A title like Antics
Should be pushin' the beats
To the brink of panic
But I turn it on
And I stifle a yawn
And think of better things
To spend my twelve bucks on
And fuck those hipsters
Hair greased, skin pale
Who claim this shit
Ain't 10 years stale
Now those rhymes be dope outta yo reach and yo hope.