Watsky - Small Talk lyrics

[Verse 1] Something happened ya, tweet that sh** Self-gratify ya, eat that sh** Snap that sh**, and keep that pic And check that she seen it in recent clicks For the fact that I'm fiending I bleed that sh** Cuz I lack self-esteem and I need that sh** So I only write what I think they'll like online as I hide behind the screen's black tint Don't read that sh**, just like that sh** Don't think for yourself, just swipe that sh** Swipe left that sh**, swipe right that sh** Filter that sh**, lo-fi that sh** Praise celebrities, glorify that sh** With a microchip in your iphone 6 f** Justin Bieber, f** Michael Vick Work a 9 to 5 then slice your wrist You've never seen a cyborg quite like me Put my lifestyle up on that hifi-stream Hook my lifeline up to that wifi screen Then charge me up or I might not breathe: Badaboom badabing Take a pulse of my veins through a USB Put my life on the web through a new XP Till I'm losing my self like who is he? All in my screen, telling me all the sh** I'm supposed to be (x4) [Verse 2 - Watsky] Member Member when we used to spark? The tender embers, late night in Dolores park? But now the technorati sharks come feed up on the carcus of the city which was once the titty that we fed upon, they're gone before its dark Deep in the gra**, they view us in their Google Gla** My past is pa**ing faster than N judah on the track I'm no Naruto on the track, not known as Budah with the backpack Still that goofy carpet bag or rocking Fubu to his cla** But past our mad infatuation, Frisco is no granite statute Atchoo, bless you, yes you better have a pa** before it met you Past Crayola days, when colors came in happy packs When the Sunset was still Irish, when the Panhandle was black Before yuppies were accumulating in the foggy cracks of San Fran like a layer of fine artesian plaque Before the crackheads scudded lower Market, puddled piss, where we marched for Iraq These wheels were set in motion, but now it's me and Frak making.. [Verse 3 - Frak] Small talkers, identify the mold With the texture of a techy trying to gentrify your home They wrecking-ball the old then mechanize the soul If you're looking for them this is how you recognize em' though Fedora and some billabong, granola that's vanilla almond, frozen yogurt gin n tonic, trying to get their frizbee on At cafés with cigarettes, getting fake sh** off their chest, well I guess it's making sense why they call the valley silicon Like what else is new? Looking over their hood from the bedroom view Watching this melting pot melt into h*mogenous Elmer's glue No radio rap, only MF doom No staying in the trap, I need elbow room Always giving their opinion like they think it's hella different like life is an endless yelp review I feel some type of way, I'm tired of life as a biker lane, their chai lattes and IPAs, ironic eye-frames and license plates Immersed in a hipster renaissance They're turning this city to Megabots Got me talking to a stove like I'm fetty wap While they're knocking down homes like lego blocks X marks the spot where the treasure's hot Where the culture breathes like a netty pot Till it's credit or debit or vacate the premise before the rent swells like a tetan*s shot Instagram burritos and the murals by the station While kicking out the very individuals who make them Idealize the culture with a swipe and a vacation When I graduate will I become the man that I am blaming? Its just capitalism, well that's masterminded By caste systems castrated and cla**ified Watch the whiteness congeal, that's flash pasteurized Your community's changing, watch it flash past your eyes