Empty on the inside

Washed up, spun out

Baby, you got nothing to hide

Getting paid to trying to graduate to the next grade

Make it out the nation, where my scene at?

My imagination, where you been at?

Why am I always scared – scared about the future?

Media ain't something I could ever get used to

Made a mess, won't confess, don't wanna hear it out

We all yelling so loud about like how

They all acting so damn happy right now

Who am I to say what these people pay?

Quit acting like you know it all

Why you always asking

Like the color of my skin changes everything drastic?

Money made, catching shade, got you bent over ass-kissing

You won't even listen

Pull up next to me, so that I can see

You think they're made of plastic

Bring them home

Bring them home

Bring them home

I'm telling you my country won't

Recognize the killing that it's built on

Don't want the weather with the guilt storm

Let them just get married

If they want to get married

Let them hit the altar in your white dress

Who are you to say what these people pay?

It's always been a whole lot more than you

I really hope my friends' dreams do come true

Quit acting like you know it all