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PETER KAZE


Everybody Else Lyrics

Stop the charade you don't do it very well
Life ain't a show that act you play it won't sell
I don't want you to be yourself
I want you to be like everybody else

So many early mornings, even more late nights
Put them jeans on, one leg at a time
Run a lil late, to work, false finish line
Slave wage, clockin 9 to 5

Overtime, Car note, maintain orbit
Rent overdue, refinance the mortgage
Overdraft fees, overdraft, bank dropped
Spent a couple quarters at the local car wash

Or laundry mat, he got class
He's in school , He knows math
Need a Loan for tuition, Text book grants
Welfare check, College broke, food stamps

For a house in the burbs, half paid binz
bachelor of science, ain't that a bunch a shit
He outta class, he can't even afford rent
Ambition, oh my where has the time went

Constantly worried bout trivial things
Faint heart beats, still exist in his dreams
Thinking Saturdays won't be filled with regret
He'll wake up nightmare of life and be outta debt

Move with the crowd, in mass he feels safe
Put on a fake smile on, he'll never truly relate
Ac like his voice ghetto, when he know how to speak
If the crowd find out, they'll murder his esteem

Stop the charade, you don't do it very well
Life ain't a show, That act you play it won't sell
I don't want you to bee yourself
I wan't you to be like everybody else

Just touched down, nother sold out show
Head to the E U, Now Touring on the road
Mtv cribs, bought a Malibu mansion
Millionaire status, ain't worried about pension

Phantom in the lot, automated start
L S 4 6 0 parallel parks
Hollywood appearance, Peter Kaze name drop
Music video, Feature tunichi at the top

Five star restraunt, Five star hotel bed
Five star model chick, five of her friends
Getting five star head, top notch brain
In middle of the day, while I'm sippin champaign

One mil twitter followers and face book fans
20,000 in the stands, came to see one man
Front row seats, priced bout half a grand
He walk up out the stage drunk, don't give a damn

Designer shows tailored, custom slip fit
Red carpet paparazzi, trynna snap a quick pic
whole fam wanna know, why I ain't signed yet
Hit the billboard, (woah) reality check

Five hundred thousand spent, House on the beach
Bollywood club, In the VIP
New groupies like who is he
I love his style, he's so unique

Catastrophe, the comets hit
Sign my name across her tits
Now she actin stockerish
Must I vacate the premises

Fake friends callin me
Celebrity partying
I'm solo no democracy
Live by the policy

f*ck that
I don't know
What ya'll want
I gotta go
piss drunk
Curtain rolls
Put your mask on
Start the show

Stop the charade, you don't do it very well
Life ain't a show, That act you play it won't sell
I don't want you to bee yourself
I wan't you to be like everybody else

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these lyrics are submitted by Peter Kaze
Songwriter(s): Carrick Moore Gerety, Michael Mccormack

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