Lyrics

An old man vacationing he stands patently Under a hotel sign that blinks vacancy He's thinking maybe he's to late to make the drop off Until a truck coming his way breaks and stops short And now he's out of sorts and you can see he's sorta nervous Walking to the passenger door to meet his ordered service This is someone's daughter working blames his conscience The driver says, "She's my youngest, her name is Constance." He comments, "...and its only six dollars per visit Just don't leave any marks on her, it hurts business" Thought for a minute then confessed, "That's fair." Since it was three dollars less then his cab fare "How old are you honey?" she says, "I'm thirteen." Her nose was runny its raining in the Philippines He hands over the money in a chilling scene The truck drives off and now he's on the hunt to kill her dreams The sign reads no vacancy He leads Constance to a room he has rented for taping See he's about to turn six into six thousand And all you have to do is click on your web browser It's not illegal to use rapping as a cash crop As long as it says she's 18 on your laptop The sound of rain is her backdrop laying there Like she's waiting for somebody to say they care While the tears of God fall down the window pane She feels unholy like the Father doesn't know her name Marry Magdalene and the women at the well He knows everything that happens And in His arms she fell He's twenty one and all alone in his household He's tempted by the quiet he feels and the mouse he holds The silence of his spouse is cold So he's about to help that man get his six thousand gold One click and now she's Withholding is conscience scrolling trough the comments There she is looking confident a picture of Constance In a series of video clips "Adult Content" The title blinks in bold letters like the vacancy sign It's his time to go get her It's like his mind doesn't know better Her soul is crying out, "Let me go." but he won't let her He got her trapped inside his media player Held captive by his need to reply her It's a matter of he being here and she being there That's why he doesn't feel the need to care Guilt is in the seed he bared Spilling his shares of the profit On a five hundred million dollar market Where children are regarded as product And traded like stock tips And rapped for the sake of our pockets His laptop sits like a window into Constance's room Where he exits cus its almost noon And he's expecting his wife home soon With new clothes for the baby She'd be angry if she saw his new lady A thirteen-year-old Filipino names Constance Trust me girl God has not forgotten If He knew Mary Magdalene and the women at the well He knows everything happened and in His arms she fell
Writer(s): Jason Christopher Medeiros Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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