Ratatat - Home of the Disproportionate lyrics

[Verse one] The only outlet that I grew up with Lower districts of Dallas Wanted murderers who stand out in public Toothpicks in their mouths, bicuspids chipped or missing They smile disgusting Pa** them at the gas station pumps And I tense up as I catch their judgment Not the type of cats you want to f** with Tales of a boy from the concrete jungle Where people find solace at the bottom of a bottle And the primary predator is hunger Doublewide dungeon Cigarette bu*ts on the sofa And when the school systems in the Southside worsen It gets harder to learn The dropout rate gets higher and higher And it becomes impossible to turn the cycle around High schools drown from lack of funding given to nicer towns Kids get bullied and start firing rounds Bring in the medics and have them wipe it down They make us read poetry like Keats in English Then wonder why we zone out He pays attention to his teachers a little bit But to rappers he pays higher amounts The system is calm and effective Congress and Senate The lives that they mess with The families Mitt Romney evicted The Wall Street villains Obama re-elected But the sun comes at the end of every nightfall From the country to the inner-city sidewalk Tap into your transcendental light bulb Step out of yourself into my world [Chorus] Land of the rich, world of the poor Home of the disproportionate “Let me get a little more of this Let me get a little more of this” That's what they tell me Show me a world where the two collide And I'll show you what torture is “Let me get a little more of this Let me get a little more of this” That's what they tell me Land of the rich, world of the poor Home of the disproportionate “Let me get a little more of this Let me get a little more of this” That's what they tell me Show me a world where the two collide And I'll show you what torture is “Let me get a little more of this Let me get a little more of this” [Verse two] It was never easy for me to be the emcee you see on the TV screen Are you serious, Walter D? This sh**'s what you really want us all to think? Terminate the contracts, get your balls back Let the memories be dissolved and freed How can you start talking About all of the happiness that material objects bring While the Congo bleeds Pakistani girls get flogged in the streets On their palms and their knees by the mobs and police That respond to their people's call for peace Gold deposits, oil reserves Dead bodies of boys on the curb As emcees we can either be a part of the problem or solution The choice is yours I had a dream that I saw the future And it all started unraveling Like an airborne javelin through timeline, traveling And it was gnarly But the sun comes at the end of every nightfall From the country to the inner-city sidewalk Tap into your transcendental light bulb Step out of yourself and into my world [Chorus]