Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy 1 years old and his first words were "Mine, mine, gimme!" 2 years old he was walking, 3 years old walking quickly 4 years old he was running 'round the pavements of the city 5 years old and his daddy told him "Listen here, son You gotta learn to be a man, a man he works for what he wants" 6 years old and he's reading, writing, top of the bunch And when he's 7, his progression made him student number 1 8 years old and he's praised for unusual grades 9, his parents pay for private school to nurture the flame 10, 11, 12, 13, he ascends and ascends His daddy tells him "Son, money is the means to all ends" 14, solving complex mathematic equations 15, IQ 150, still elevating 16, he develops complex software code That detects weaknesses in cyber security protocols 17, and he sells vision keeping a share Not yet an adult, but he's practically a millionaire 18, and his daddy tells him "Now you're a man This world don't give a damn about you, so take all that you can" 19, he turns a profit stocks and shares invest in product 20, double-down deposits, 21, his income rockets 22, he learns that truth is just an obstacle to wealth If you manipulate the data, then a lie will sell itself 23, a life of luxury crystal and cocaine 24, he makes the Forbes list, they're applauding his name 25, and his daddy tells him, "listen here son While you are sitting in your palace, that don't mean that you won" 26, a business shift he switches business to arms 27, dealing nuclear and shells in Iran 28, inside the Senate money bought him a seat 29, a role of the council in the president, sweet Now he's 30 and his daddy says "You're losing the race You're just a servant to the king, not even in second place" 31, a big maneuver for his daddy's approval Moving imports over borders from the exports out of Cuba 32, moving grams, growing kilos to tonnes He's 33, filling warehouses with powder and guns 34, turf war with nobody to stop it Blind eye from the po-po inside of his pocket 35 and he gets a call, "I'm sorry son It's your father, had a heart attack, I'm sorry, he's gone" 36, getting pissed up, abusing his product 37, eyes glazed, disposition demonic 38 with a prostitute, a moment of passion Heating up a silver spoon and then chasing the dragon 39, getting reckless and hungry for power Daddy's words still driving him to kill and devour He makes a move against the cartel, but the strategie's flawed They retaliate and leave him in a hospital ward A bullet buried in the vertebra and one in the leg The doctor sighs and says "I don't think you'll be walking again", fuck
Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy He was 40, and he cursed the words "Mine, mine, gimme" 41, he wasn't walking, 42, not walking quickly 43, never running 'round the pavement of his city 44 inside his palace with a mountain of gold But the riches turn to rubble when perspective evolves Weighing heavy on his conscience is the value of gold A Lamborghini for a life, trading money for souls Jimmy followed the code inside the land of the free Put your hand inside the cookie jar, take more than you need And his is example is exaggerated versions of me And it's a version of him, and it's a version of she And it's a version of you, there's no escaping the blame The way we live is parasitic, fuck the money and fame, cut the music!
This ain't entertainment, this is real life The way we live is lunacy, community, it declines Hyperpolerised, always fighting, then we divide Truth is less important than the money that we designed? Money's an invention, politics from our invention They all come from peoples ideas, did I mention? Borders? Our invention, law and order, fuel the tension That leads to people killing each other. My solution? Everything is subject to change We can build utopias if individuals are taught to use their brains But if we teach kids in school to always be sheep And put ourselves before the herd if there's more money for me Then there's no future I see, where the humans survive We're parasites inside a Petri dish with cannibal minds Mold grows upon a surface, it consumes till it dies And our fate could be the same, so here's a story for the wise
45, Jimmy comes home out of the rain Soaking wet upon a wheelchair, drinking again He is everything he wants, he has fortune and fame He's a fortunate fool with an unfortunate fate With a 45 caliber aimed at his brain 45 - a fitting number, 'cause his age is the same Hears the words of his father; "Such a damn shame" Then he presses on the trigger of a money gameTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
