This song goes out to all the ones with coke bottle glassesTo all you lonely kids who were picked last in gym classWe got your back,Are you up with the fact?You're never gonna catch usChorusGet up, get up,Cause we're fed up, fed upTry to rise and keep your head up, head upHe's the king of the Kong,We'll be singin the songBring it on, bring it on, bring it onIt's a sentimental journey,Presenting sentiments of resentments that'll burn meUnearthing our sharp knives turning slowly bluntMy role is to unfold so i gotta face the frontI used to spend my daysDazed and confused,Sixteen year underdogStill dawning underoosSorry bout my styleI know my flow sounds usedDejected and directedBy the likes of John HugesWe recycle recitals of enemies and idolsUnscrawled in the hall like Anthony MichaelI lack plan or title just one of the boysOn islands and islands of misfit toysChorusMy field of dreams was a parking lotWith hot shots doing doughnutsPissin off the grownupsMe on the side writing unrequited love letters,That I would send to my imaginary girlfriendI had to pretend 'cause I never played footballThe kid drafted last picked at the wallCause it eased the monotony of everybody mockin meSpend time tootin rhymes like botanyNow what I wanna be -What you wanna be?To be famous,I claim thisTry to gain thisBut sometimes it's haneousThe way the shamelessSurround me like they're tryin to drown meI'm lookin for intelligent lifeI'm lookin for a blip on the screenSo I can reach out and touch somebodyAnybodyEverybodyThis song goes out to all the ones with coke bottle glassesTo all you lonely kids who were picked last in gym classWe got your backAre you up with the fact?You're never gonna catch usChorusAround and round the world with youAround and round the world with youAround and round the world with youAround and round the world with youAround and round the world with you