Old Skool Rocka

I hate it
when I struggle
When I struggle you criticise

And I hate
when I do
what I do But to work this 9 to 5

And I hate
when your support
Is the answer to my demise

And I hate
when you offer
A dagger in your back with a smile

So untie me from your state of mind
And take these words from the wise
I'm not a sinner
not a saint not your Idolistic prize
You can take me up on this middle finger
Do you hear me asking why
I'm the unheard that's
left behind disregarded Wonder in why

Get up! Get up! I'm an Old Skool Rocka
Blastin' through your speaker with the beat so proper
Get up! Get up! I'm an Old Skool Rocka
Blastin' through your speaker with the beat so proper

I hate it
when I'm told
What I should or should not do

And I hate when your ignorance Makes it hard for me to get through
So save me from your authority
This voice without a face
I'm the unheard that's left behind disregarded to be erased

Get up! Get up! Come on! (Come on!)
Get up! Get up! Come on! Come on! (Come on!)
Get up! Get up! Come on! (Come on!)
Get up! Get up! Come on! Come on! -