I'm Designer

My generation's for sale Beats a steady job How much have you got? My generation don't trust no one It's hard to blame Not even ourselves The thing that's real for us is: fortune and fame All the rest seems like work It's just like diamonds In shit I'm high class, I'm a whore Actually both Basically, I'm a pro We've all got our own style of baggage Why hump it yourself? You've made me an offer that I can refuse 'Cause either way I get screwed Counter proposal: I go home and jerk off, uh It's truly a lie I counterfeit myself It's truly a lie I counterfeit myself You don't own, you don't own, you don't own, you don't own You don't own what none can buy You don't own (You don't own) Neither do I High and mighty, you say selling out is a shame Is that the name of your book? Push a silver spoon in your ass No more holding us Down, dog, down, mutt, nice mutt You're insulted you can't be bought or sold Translation: offer too low You don't know what you're worth It isn't much My piano's for sale How many times must I sell myself Before my pieces are gone? I'm one of a kind! I'm designer! Never again will I repeat myself Enough is never enough Never again will I repeat myself It used to be the plan was screwing the man Now it's have sex with a man (After he buys your dot-com for sale at a low, low price) It's truly a lie I counterfeit myself It's truly a lie I counterfeit myself You don't own, you don't own, you don't own me You don't own what none can buy You don't own... You don't own what none can buy Neither do I