Just tryin to tell a story over one of war-spawn's beats. Not perfect; it served as an exercise for me. I hope you can enjoy it, I think this is the one place where most people can relate to it somewhat.

It's Only Fair - http://www.newgrounds.com /audio/listen/225956 (remove the space)

The lyrics are all below.

Twelve years old, back in the day
Little skinny white geek stumbled across a page
With a black background and cheesy ass music
Where you could grab a club find a seal and just lose it
Brought a couple giggles to this humbles introvert
Wasn't long till he started showing his own sweet work
I remember the first flash he ever made
Stickmen and blood, he thought it was great
But he grew, and he started spending more time with a mouse
Drawing squiggly lines and givin microphone shouts
Self-taught animator, out of the box thinker
Self-proclaimed world hater, teenage angst stinker
The feedback was nice, reviews made him laugh
Nowhere else would people watch this kids twisted trash
So he stayed up late painting pictures that moved
They were beautiful to him and they slowly improved
Hunched over, 3am, and his back hurts
"That's my favorite Saturday, nothing else matters!"
He said to his dad, who was worried for his son
Cause he got a tan from the computer no need for the sun

Stop the track, throw it over your back
Got the next train comin and you're already packed
And your souls in your pocket, no spare change
Gotta sell something to get out of this rain

As the years passed by the boy developed his art
With frame after frame coming straight from the heart
And day after day more folks would start
Asking around about this self taught superstar
But he hardly noticed while focused on the screen
Had a dream in mind he needed to set free
And by the time he looked up man he had started a scene
Of followers and fans hooked on what he believed
Catapulted from his basement onto the front page
Squinting in the limelight but still making minimum wage
Graduated from high school and now had a job
Smiling at a desk for the corporate mob
Dealin art from his jacket for a coupla bucks
Down on his luck he thought of givin it all up
Till some classy black suit with a devilish grin
Came by with a contract and offered a pen

Soon as cash enters the picture something's bound to snap
And a rash flip of the wrist left him bloated and trapped
The intro scene was clean, no foul punches
The big screen shined for all of those missed lunches
And all those lost days, erased by applause
But that insatiable craze was laced with a pause
When the popcorn was empty, the building deserted
He was busy thumbing cash when the crowd passed a verdict
"This man is old news, we choose to move on"
He chased after with a paintbrush but they were all gone
And on his knees in an alley he screamed for a friend
Only his manager answered and again held a pen
"Now get up boy, every second's a dollar
You're wreckin all'a your cheques layin here trying to swallow"
Distressed he spent the rest of his days alone
Animating commercials for the businesses that owned him.

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