Plastic rockers
Plastic Gangsters
As 50 cent would call them
Wanksters
Both hype the stereotype
They both delight in the white
One snorts it up their nose
One sell it to buy new clothes
Sex, drugs, rock and roll
And being a tough guy is the goal
Skinny jeans and boots
Short hair and tracksuits
Reputation grows
Small music shows
Big fish in a small grey town
Beating people down
For the tough guy crown
Playing
Slaying
Fighting
Fading
To the mundane
The mystique they can’t contain
Younger boys are coming through
And music tastes are changing too
So reach for the stars
And battle for scars
Drive blood bought cars
They’re living a lie
The ego will die
Into their plastic spoon beginnings
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