Expertos En Nada

Tell me something
About my life?
No, damn it, I mean a story
Since you can't keep your mouth shut
To let me read the newspaper
Tell me something
Sorry, I don't know what to say
You don't have any stories? You don't!
Then I'll tell you one

Yao, yao, yao, okay
Welcome to the world where the experts live
The ones who know everything, life’s graduates
Let me tell you to fuck off
Listen to me (you know nothing) we all know things here, okay?

If it were up to me, I’d cut off your dick and give it to your girlfriend
But I guess I have to be polite
Even though manners freak me out
I’m the type who smiles
Says, great, I’m happy for you (pat on the back)
We all do it, we say: Hi, how’s it going?
Thinking: What an idiot!

This planet created me with maybe four or five people max
There are people I greet because the law stops me from kicking them in the face
More than being fake, I have manners and yeah, you can call me cynical
Or a fucking crazy person with a heart that gets wrecked every week at the clinic

Hey, yeah? Of course, I’m not lying
I bring up a topic every day
And still, it fucks any topic you could come up with in a year
Are you gonna talk to me about feeling hip hop? Wake the hell up!
When you were in preschool, I was writing to a girl who was already dead

I’ve been writing half my life just to keep it real in my hideout, dude
You can shove your moral lessons up your ass, and so on
You know what? I don’t give a damn and I don’t shout
I stay quiet knowing you still got flow
Lyrics, time, talent, and years

Count and let it go
You don’t even realize what’s really there
You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you’re in the wrong place
Count and let it go
You don’t even realize what’s really there
You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you don’t even know what you’re talking about

If it were up to me, I’d cut out your tongue
And feed it to the dog
But I guess I have to be polite
And the more you talk, the happier I get
I’m not confused, because many times it gets to that point
They talk about you out there, but they can’t stand you
Not even for five seconds

Where’s the trick?
I didn’t filter life, I lived it raw
So that now some fucking jerk
Can come and tell me to what end I spit it out
Why do I feel it? Well, I’m sorry, even though they left me hanging
And now they have the balls to come
And tell me what I’ve been through

One for a test, two to hurt, and by the third, I’m done, here
If you get abandoned on the shore, you die or turn to stone
But there aren’t many of us here, no, I’m done with the good guy label
But don’t shake the ground looking for money in my fucking territory

Count and let it go
You don’t even realize what’s really there
You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you’re in the wrong place
Count and let it go
You don’t even realize what’s really there
You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you don’t even know what you’re talking about