Everyone clap for the crap artists
A pat on the back to whichever one sounds smartest
Capture the magic of blabbering half-hearted
And the last rambling man standing laughs hardest
Can’t handle the grandstanding on red carpets
Doin’ the camera flash thing in new pants, targets
Doin’ it to catch a glance of a new fast startin’
They only listen to what you spinnin’ what the bad part is
Eyes glazed over watchin’ idols cry for food
Words big as their appetites and none of ‘em are true
Fresh outta shit to say but still got plenty to prove
These words are made for talkin’ and talkin’s not for you
My sleeves are stuffed with better ways to say things
I pull ‘em out at the first hit and it’s spellbreakin’
Real magic making for an honorable mention
So rap where people can see you my weak homies’ tentin’
Only tip my hat to cats to scratch the doors in it
Fill it up, wanna rap and distract the lost children
Make a living offa milkin’ ‘em for teardrops
And mashin’ work together till the motherfuckin’ beat stops
Soon enough they’ll tell you that you’re spoutin out their dreams
Not the racket of an idiot with eyes on that supreme spot
And a foldin’ chair to pull up at the top
For a seat next to the door that where the shit that doesn’t stink drops
Could almost see it every time I pitch rocks
Camped out in a glass house with a slingshot

I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me

Great job rapping, now the second hand knows your name
And it’s playing bloody knuckles with your 15 minutes of fame
That’s bout off the top ten list just a stain
But everything looks better when you put it in a frame
Just hang it next to that impressive portrait of your pain
And nag about how it’s unfortunate to be the same
Charge ‘em for repeat because your mouth’s quick thanks for comin’
Superstar mystique couldn’t see what but it was stunnin’
Get every rhythm and crowd buzzin’
Till that old fat lady is too weak to sing above it
So it’s over when it’s muffled by the rumble of her stomach
Or somebody tends to shovel thinkin’ they finally struck it
For the deeper meaning thinkers who treasures the whoopee cushion
And a fresh new grave you already put your foot in
Sitting on a secret now you’re embarrassed for looking
And that big red button looks about right for pushing
Some of us took the magic beans for food
So whoever farts the loudest is obviously the truth
And what could make me prouder than pourin’ salt in the wounds
Of them kids that still believe cows jump over moons
Something to do while makin’ sure you all stay dizzy
Ball up the fists squeeze the life out of pretty
Wait until their back’s turned, screaming,, don’t hit me
And they’ll find no pity because the sign said kick me

I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me




Lyrics submitted by Twiztidlojik

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