Remix 2.0: Keep your love lock-down – you lose – only let the pain go down to a certain point.

Fast cars, shooting stars
All of the lights, all of the lights
Wait ’til I get my money right
I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven
When I awoke, I spent that on a necklace

So if the Devil wear Prada, Adam Eve wear nada
I’m in between but way more fresher
Man it’s so hard not to act reckless
To whom much is given, much is tested
Do anybody make real shit anymore?

‘Cause right now thou hast forsaken us
You should be honored by my lateness
That I would even show up to this fake shit
So I keep it low, keep a secret code
So everybody else don’t have to know

Then you can’t tell me nothing, right?
Excuse me, was you saying something?
Uh uh, you can’t tell me nothing
Old folks talking ’bout, “Back in my day”
But homie this is my day

Good morning, look at the valedictorian
Scared of the future while I hop in the DeLorean
No more wasting time, you can’t wait for life
We’re just racing time, where’s the finish line?

I’m exhausted, barely breathing
Holding on to what I believe in
We at war with terrorism, racism
But most of all we at war with ourselves
I know this world is changing
I’m the only thing I’m afraid of

God show me the way because the Devil’s tryna break me down
The only thing that I pray is that my feet don’t fail me now
You know what I need, want you to see everything
Want you to see all of the lights
I need you to hurry up now
‘Cause I can’t wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
‘Cause I can’t get much wronger

And you don’t give a fuck what they all say, right?
They say you can rap about anything except for Jesus
That means guns, sex, lies, videotape
But if I talk about God my record won’t get played, huh?
Heard they’d do anything for a Klondike
Well, I’d do anything for a blonde dyke

Now keep your love lock-down—your love lockdown
Now keep your love lock-down—you lose
I’m not capable of suffering completely. I never have.
It goes only down to a certain point and then it stops.
As long as there is that untouched point, it’s not really pain.

With apologies to Kanye West (1977-present)i and Ayn Rand (1905-1982) 

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  1. As with Remix 1.0. []

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