Yo Music Scene, What Happened?

Check, check
One, two
I know my lyrics aren't the best you've ever heard
But I say what I mean, and I mean every fucking word
I'm sick of listening to narrow-minded pricks
Bumming third rate bands, they've all got shit on their dicks
When you try to get posh, the meaning gets lost
So I'm thinking inside the box
They say that we sound like these bands, have they heard our CD?
Even though we're in these mags, it's still not good enough for me
They can keep their reservations, unconstructive criticisms - I just can't take them
Where's your band?
So now you're trying to get on guestlist?
Come on fellas, pull the other one
I c-c-can't believe the games you're playing, after all that you've been saying
How do you do? My name's Mike and I make music I like
Believe me my friends, I don't want to offend
But we put time and thought into these songs no one got
You've got the cheek to say that we're a covers band
With your headphones on and Gallows' dick in your hand
You sit behind a desk in an office all day long
Mouthing words wrong to old Metallica songs
Where's your band?
They say that we sound like these bands, have they heard our CD?
Even though we're in these mags, it's still not good enough for me
They can keep their reservations, unconstructive criticisms - I just can't take them
Where's your band?
Genre must be hard to distinguish, with only a GCSE in English
Genre must be hard to distinguish, with only a GCSE in English