prophet margin - brass palmz lyrics
[first verse]
listen money talks, but talk is cheap/
they only want your two*cents ‘till it’s obsolete/
y’all making noise with a silver tongue/
but silence is golden like that gilded gun/
i go buck for doe – on the drop of a dime
f*ck a penny for my thoughts i want a copper mine/
i’m in the french quarter like jackson square/
or benjamin b*tton bout to max like air/
pushing dope lines on a nickel plated mic/
got ‘em rolling up a dollar bill to sniff an eighth of white/
“numb” like chester – from lincoln park/
depression, stock broker, read the chart/
i take ‘em from wall street up to broadway/
but this ain’t hamilton, tell ‘em not to play/
i got bars like bullion, ‘fore you fan flames/
grant me serenity for things i can’t change/
[2nd verse]
econ major claiming nothing is free/
acting like the sunset ain’t something to see/
what about the air in your lungs when he breathe/
or true love, that don’t come with a fee/
the wind on your skin the waves at the beach/
tell me — what did you exchange for each/
nothing, even with your pockets empty
the best things in life are still complimentary/
tears of joy, the sound of laughter
the profound feel of astounding rapture
the scent of the flower when it starts to bud/
the luminary light of the stars above/
the rhythm of you heart the melody of birds/
that we imitate with the intelligence of words/
and one last thing fore i leave you in peace/
i know money talks, but i got freedom of speech
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