The Power of Madonna

Hello? I can't, baby It's six in the morning, it's fucking early as shit I ain't got the time for this, I'll let you know No, I don't know I just can't right now, I just, I gotta do something Wait, she's dead? (I missed you so much, look at the body that loves you) Yeah, uh March 11th, 1997 My nigga A. died, most dogs go to heaven But, what about the pits, the neutered and abused Will this Tramp find his Lady below the heavens like Blu? Shit, I missed my cue I almost was a star But they shot me out the sky in favor of something new I tell you, I'm a jerk-off, I love fucking But if you preggo I'ma drown that baby and knock them suds off Damn, but I ain't that lucky I'm just messing 'round yo, I'm surprised you even fucked me I'm probably getting cuffed in the car And this emcee'll spend the rest of his life going over these bars And I don't need a fucking drug test To tell me I'll be high off cocaine and big checks In twenty years when I'm feeling like a fossil Talking to these kids 'bout the good old days And how this 90s baby made it in 2012, without no co-signs or help I tell 'em that it started with a song about Jane A little print of paper, one pen and all caps I started my career in the classroom, lying 'bout the game And now I want the fame (fame, fame) (Fame, fame, fame!) (I missed you so much, I forgot how good it could feel) I want the fame! (I want to feel you) (I missed you so much, I forgot how good it could feel) (You'll undress me too, I want to feel you) (I missed you so much, look at the body that loves you) Yeah, yeah, yeah Here's some people on my fuck-you list Every politician and their snotty ass kids Fuck Chet Haze, fuck Asher Roth and Coffee I don't love brain, but I do love pussy Cross my path, consider yourself lucky I'm in a bad mood, bruh, you do not wanna fuck with me I'm on seven truth serums worth of face cream God made me brown but I need a re-painting So fuck you and fuck her I love clothes, new shoes, and fresh perc So fuck Biggie, fuck Blu and fuck Murs Real hip-hop died when Teddy got the boots with the fur And we all had our hand in it Made a soapbox, and nobody wanna stand on it So for the fuck of it I'll be the next cannabis Rap my ass off and still have nothing to show for it Gain a cult following in the pits of passion Never clear my samples, get sued by Janet Jackson Walk up to her face like, "Bitch, what would Michael do?" Rope her in with lies, get out the punch and spike the truth Get off without paying any royalties Tried to talk to her, but like Pac she avoided me But I love you girl, don't run from me I don't care about your age, girl you're lovely Yeah, yeah, it's all good 'cause I'm famous And I look good, ah shit, yeah (Devon, if you ever become rich, remember to use your money wisely) (And don't do anything stupid, okay?) Fuck that (I missed you so much, I forgot how good it could feel) (I want to feel you) (I missed you so much, I forgot how good it could feel) (You'll undress me too, I want to feel you) (I missed you so much, look at the body that loves you) Thank you, thank you, thank you everybody Thank you, appreciate that Thank you for coming out tonight, its been a wonderful show Gotta dip out I got what I came for, I'm fucking famous I got money, got money busting out my jeans I'm gonna put a twenty dollar bill in the vending machine Just to see what happens You know what I'm saying, see if I get the change back Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I got the fame, who got the fame? I got the fame, uh, uh, uh, uh I'm gonna fuck a pornstar, just because Yeah, I got the fame, bitch I got the fame, bitch, let's make a sex tape Uh, yeah, oh shit All this money, haha, do the Boris Johnson dance again- Oh, it was a dream, well that- that's great Fucking dream- false alarm! Fucking dream, god damn it!