Hot Breathe

Picked on, picked last,

Can't forget, bottom of the class

But so cynical and typical,

I judged them, before they judged me

I guess i smelled bad, i didn't care,

My school was empty, i wasn't there

Smiles were imitation like every grade,

Intelligence had nothing to do with what i made

Yo hot breath, you need some tic-tacs,

Industrial strength, make sure it lasts

The stereo never stopped, i'd sleep and listen,

Albums played for weeks and that was the mission

I would soak up every band's album,

Maybe one day it'd rub off on me

I'd start a band, write amazing songs,

We'd tour till the sun caved in

I'd finally meet one of my goals,

I'd finally be good at something

Yo hot breath, you need some tic-tacs,

Industrial strength, make sure it lasts

My roots are buried beneath ten years of concrete

And that's where they think they should be

That's where they think they should be