Looking down from the penthouse, hand around a tequila,
staring at the blazing sky and thinking about
the old money mixed with a few
shades of corruption that got you here

If the earth didn't fade out as far as the eye could see,
maybe you would better appreciate what you had, you,
rarely stepping foot outside uptown and forgoing luxury for once

It's never good enough, is it?
Getting out of your gold cage might set you free
You don't work, and that's a double entendre

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