Underklassmusik [English translation]

Woman:

"Well, I am no sure that we have any class differences in Sweden anymore. We don't have any, according to sociologists.".

Man:

"In a way there might be a certain... a certain need for class divisions in society, in order for it to function".

Intro:

"They have high incomes, saved a lot of money, they have interesting jobs, there is surely one or another hidden wage benefit as well. They live in big and well well-equipped houses with greenery, gardens and are with the help of the residential segregation guarantied to have neighbors that are like them. They can indulge in vacation in holiday houses, boats or can travel to interesting destinations. Their children might, at the moment, be looking forward to a summer with language-camp, sailing trips, riding and all the rest there might be. On the other hand: we have all the people that live with bare economic minimum, who year after year have seen their spending power decrease. Maybe they live in rental-complexes and wait for the next big rent increase. They do not have any holiday houses and boats, and they economy does not allowed any expensive vacations. Their children might have to spend most of their summer holiday running around the yards between the rental-complexes."

It is Stress, fool

Look after them

Verse 1:

A single mum with two low-wage jobs

Her son gets raise by the programmes, misunderstood

It is the tears of the mother now, that grieves the son's death

A completely different destiny, "push" the coke

He who had nothing

Flip, dribble, sick-sack between the programmes

An illusion accompanied by the vest and the gun

And his neighbor, the little kid, watches it all from his window

Duck punches from his drunk dad who's soul is broken

Left behind and absent, labeled by on-call social workers

Now the little kid follows the pattern of the programme-rebel

Prepare his chance, naive as fuck

Though everybody won, and it is true

Some died and others disappeared in prison

And his brain is suppressing all the evils in crime

He paints castle in the clouds after fucking castles in the clouds1

And they say that hope is the last things that leaves your body

He might reach the top, make the same mistakes as us

Hook:

They call you a dealer, they see you as a criminal

That only makes you stronger, the road to haven can go through hell

Never forget: there is always someone that hears you!

Always someone that sees you, that always is with you, never alone!

('Cause it is the him) But it is the him with tie and suitcase that is a criminal

Verse 2:

The fourteen year old girl is looking for love and confidence

But sordid hearts here have made her addicted

She looked for love, she payed with her head

She became a slave to drugs, hung with losers

She sells her body among drugs, suicide and shots

It's a permanent blank lottery ticket, do you think villas hear

When there is rattling in the programmes and the boys die?2

This is underclass music for you who've been left out

And for the privileged it's only getting better

Decorate their kitchens, they renovate the bathroom

Ey, what the fuck happened with the Swedish model?

The era of egotrips, it is the individualist society

And the country is run by camouflaged neo-liberals

With their motherfucking silver cutlery and decals

In philosophy it is called moral luck

In pure Swedish we can say that they were born with luck

Hook:

They call you a dealer, they see you as a criminal

That only makes you stronger, the road to haven can go through hell

Never forget: there is always someone that hears you!

Always someone that sees you, that always is with you, never alone!

(But it is the him) But it is the him with tie and suitcase that is a criminal

Verse 3:

This is underclass music, from the bottom - subjected

Carries a street perspective, against the top - totally pissed off

But I don't care about that, abandoned by the government in direction of the programme

(Jordbro, Fittja, Tensta, Rinkeby!)

Where friends turn into enemies

Where friends get money from the police to frame you

Should I avenge the times I've been betrayed

Out here, bang bang, that is the moral-maths

The street sees, the street hears, they talk until someone else gets shot

There is no one here that smiles, life is a bitch

No fucking game man, deep street-narcissism

Survival of the fittest a.k.a Darwinism

Click-clack, it is a "we-think" and crimes of violence

Just another player that follows the code of the street

It is a jungle, if you're weak you'll get fucking eaten

The Cartel3 are indoctrinated in the mentality of the programmes, man

Hook:

They call you a dealer, they see you as a criminal

That only makes you stronger, the road to haven can go through hell

Never forget: there is always someone that hears you!

Always someone that sees you, that always is with you, never alone!

('Cause it is the him) But it is the him with tie and suitcase that is a criminal

1. "luftslott" = Impossible dreams / illusions2. "Smattra" like the sound of rain on the ground, Refers to gun fire3. I.E. the band