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WHO I AM
The poors are paranoid.
There's a goodness in that.
It keeps them occupied
when my men aren't around.
When my men aren't around,
the poors are paranoid.
They meet in secret places
and keep on mentioning me.
CH: So they can feel a little bit better.
So they can seem a little bit better
amongst those dregs the next day
telling them they'd better soon join them.
Amongst those dregs the next day
screaming at them "You are doomed."
And I love the best
when I holographic-stream
some guy protest at my men
"Don't you know who I am?
There are people under me.
You must've seen them or have record of it.
CH. Because you need to feel even better."
I'm up in my helicopter.
The ocean's boring for just a few hours.
Got an invitation from this man.
Don't remember his name
but I get to see Timbaland.
Only once I had to use that:
the don't-you-know-who-I-am.
It didn't work; I was a captive with a gun at my head.
The one they used to call "the Caesar"
had a feeling about me
right then and right there.
That was it. That was the last time.
Right there and right then,
the Caesar knew I was better.
I threw it down on the cardboard.
I threw it down on the street.
And I love the best
when I holographic-stream
some guy protest at my men
"Don't you know who I am?"
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