This is a song about "The elite"

Have no souls indeed

Part of the crew elite

She's bound to be bitchin if she hasn't got a fix inso... now i lay me down to sleep

That you facin, so get pacin, im an elite athlete at a track meet and your just a skeet,

Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the

Hold my pistoland wrap your arms around a nigga

Harvard's elite and pseud-intellectuals had it for ninety years,

Of hearin screams at my concerts, me all my childhood peers

Pack a bad bitch then i pass it to my nigga meek

It's all i want in this life, success as a hip-hop elite/

Fine women love losers, that treat 'em bad and cheap

Elite geek speaks unique, sleek with mystique, sweet technique

The therapist nicknamed me kid cudi, i killed my fifth buddy

Of corrupt government leaders and elite aristocracy,

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.