I look at all the homeless people then I jump out of the way of your Beemer.
Something's not right.
Then I see your great big empty homes.
Gucci watches and cellular phones and I know something's not right.
You want, well you never need.
It all comes easy, when you can buy opportunity.
You got gold trim.
Trimming everything.
All to feed your fucking prestige.
Your wealth is a fucking sick joke on the lives that die while you buy status symbols.
Are they human? Are you human?
Roll up your tinted windows and you'll never have to know.
You had such a hard day shopping from rich pocket to rich pocket.
Something's not right.
I see you with your retail trash.
Step over the poor into your cab and I know something's not right.
Money is greater than human life.