Poor people get twenty years, so much for created equal,
I say, how can they compare to you, everything material
I try to tell them i'm one of the
Souls sold to men that are robed in magenta,
For all that deals,but i got nothing to hold
Seven years old in my heart, so i'm stayin' gold
It was a former student that used to be a guy, a self-taught that didn't care
Come on over to the scene, grab a table, let me take a look at that there
A metaphor, for the insecure
We were created to find each other
"what are these wealthy tax breaks that you all are asking of?"
A lot of women from conversation could fall in love
Releasing albums will probably be in the rented but the doesn't stop me from independence
With these raps we mend, recommend you get your best of men, to pen their weapons
When the truth is, i be just tryin’ to make it equal
I coulda swore i was driving pretty peaceful
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