So one time for my disillusioned artists, I hear ya
Two times for the kid that air-guitars in the mirror
Three times for the 9-to-5-in' bus ridin' dudes
And four times for my dreamers, yo I'm just like you
That's why I sing for my queens with their own pair of wings
My brothers flyin' beside me, drama behind me
Mama tried to find me, she inquired emphatically
I was in the sky with all these other ghetto kids, defying gravity, uh.