Nobody likes me; everybody hates me
I've been taking care of myself even worse lately
Maybe it's not me an it's everyone else (Yeah)
Could it be finally I found fault with myself?
Please, I'm well aware for every problem theres a prayer
To a god that will only exist when I'm deep in despair
And I swear in the foxhole I'm converted forever
But I curse his name the next day when the trouble gets better
Only a real douchebag would claim that he's religious
To snuggle up to a girl that he's known for ten minutes
Only a real jerk would have unprotected sex
With a girl he just met, tells her he loves her and jets
The fact of the matter is I pray I'm the average
To seem extraordinary though they're probably bored already
By the time I hit the mortuary, no one will miss me
In hell I'll make a record with Michael Jackson and Biggie.
I'm an unloveable loser
Without a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not havin' money because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh
I'm an unloveable loser
With out a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not selling records because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh uhuh
When I was younger the hunger for rhyming was so overwhelming
Now that I'm older I dish it out in generous helpings (Uhh... nope)
Nothing is helping, I'm done treading I'm drowning
I'm downing every ounce of alcohol around me (Oooh!)
I'm trying to make it better, trying to numb some of the shit
That finds its way inside my head an holds on and doesn't forget
They say I'm self depricating, I say I'm entertaining
They say my new record is awful, I'm a disaster thats waiting
To happen every action must have a reaction
Why would I listen to an A&R with a fraction of my passion?
Sick of producers sayin I can have success
Thats why most of my lyrics are: fuck, shit, cock, or piss
This is it (this is it), the final straw
This is Weerd Science's final bording call
I know the only way I'll blow up is if I'm dead
So you can send my royalty checks to my parents instead
I'm an unloveable loser
Without a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not havin' money because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh
I'm an unloveable loser
With out a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not selling records because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh uhuh
Ahhh
...Wait a second
Maybe things do get better
Maybe all this self doubt, woe-is-me, pitty-party shit is beans, the pits
You know?
Maybe I'm gonna pay off my tax debt
Maybe I'm gonna actually get royalty checks, I dunno
Maybe my best friends will stop stealing from me
Maybe I'll actually make my parents proud
Could you imagine?
Holy crap, I figured it out, life is awesome! (Yeah!)
(Josh what's up man?, it's Dave, what's going on?
Yo)
(Look, uh, the IRS called
What?)
(Seems like you still gotta pay them sixty grand
Oh, are you fucking serious dude?)
(Neat raps, though!
Thanks...)
We are all gonna die alone
It's not gonna get any better
Oh, God
I'm an unloveable loser
Without a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not havin' money because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh
I'm an unloveable loser
With out a job or friends or a future
And it's hard to get used to
Not selling records because I used to
Uh huh huh, uh uh uhuh