[00:00.000] 作曲 : Ren Gill
[01:11.098]Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy
[01:14.208]One years old and his first words were "Mine, mine, gimme!"
[01:17.734]Two years old he was walking, three years old walking quickly
[01:21.024]Four years old he was running around the pavement of his city
[01:24.520]Five years old and his daddy told him
[01:26.600]"Listen here son, you gotta learn to be a man! A man who work for what he want."
[01:31.372]Six years old and his reading writing is top on the bunch-
[01:34.778]-and when he is seven his progression made him student number one
[01:38.095]Eight years old and he's praised for unusual grades
[01:41.277]Nine, his parent pay for private school to nurture the flame
[01:44.550]Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, he ascends and ascends.
[01:47.498]His daddy tells him "Son, money is the means to end."
[01:50.779]Fourteen, solving complex mathematical equations
[01:53.812]At fifteen, IQ a hundred and fifty still elevating
[01:57.043]sixteen, he develops complex software code that detects weaknesses in cyber security protocols
[02:03.200]Seventeen and he sells his vision keeping a share
[02:05.980]Not yet an adult but he's practically a millionaire
[02:09.142]Eighteen, and his daddy tells him "Now you're a man!-
[02:12.020]-This world don't giva a damn about you so take all that you can!"
[02:15.233]Nineteen, he turns a profit stocks and shares invest in product. Twenty, double-down deposits
[02:19.452]Twenty-one, on his income roket. Twenty-two, he learns the truth is just an obstacle to wealth-
[02:23.740]-if you manipulate the data then the lie will sell it self
[02:26.899]Twenty-three, a life of luxury, crystal and cocaine.
[02:29.739]Twenty-four, he makes the Forbes list they applauding his name
[02:32.492]Twenty-five, and his daddy tells him
[02:34.302]"Listen here son, while you're sitting in that palace that don't mean that you won."
[02:38.424]Twenty-six, a business shift, he switches business to arms.
[02:41.442]He's Twenty-seven dealing nuclear and shells in Iran
[02:44.201]Twenty-eight, inside the senate money bought him his seat.
[02:47.173]He's Twenty-nine a role of councel in the president, sweet
[02:50.289]Now he's thirty and his daddy says
[02:51.842]"You're losing the race. You're just a servant to the king, not even in second place"
[02:55.920]thirty-one, a big maneuver for his daddy's approval,
[02:58.924]moving imports over borders from the exports out of Cuba
[03:01.943]thirty-two, moving grams, growing kilos to tonnes.
[03:04.697]He's thirty-three, filling warehouses with powder and guns
[03:07.637]Thirty-four, turf war with nobody to stop it.
[03:10.729]Blind eye from the po-po inside of his pocket
[03:17.904]Thirty-five and he gets a call "I'm sorry son. It's your father, had a heart attack, I'm sorry, he's gone"
[03:23.506]Thirty-six, getting pissed up, abusing his product.
[03:26.561]Thirty-seven, eyes glazed, disposition demonic
[03:29.497]Thirty-eight, with a prostitute, a moment of passion.
[03:32.653]Heating up a silver spoon and then chasing the dragon
[03:35.594]Thirty-nine, getting reckless and hungry for power.
[03:38.578]Daddy's words still driving him to kill and devour
[03:41.698]He makes a move against the cartel, but the strategy's flawed.
[03:44.495]They retaliate and leave him in a hospital ward
[03:47.416]A bullet buried in the vertebra and one in the leg
[03:50.395]The doctor sighs and says "I don't think you'll be walking again", ****
[04:02.380]Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy
[04:05.460]He was forty and he cursed the words "Mine, mine, gimme"
[04:09.552]Forty-one, he wasn't walking, forty-two, not walking quickly
[04:13.519]Forty-three, never running around the pavements of his city
[04:17.380]Forty-four, inside his palace with a mountain of gold
[04:21.200]But those riches turn to rubble when perspective evolves
[04:24.725]Weighing heavy on his conscience is the value of gold
[04:28.350]A Lamborghini for a life, trading money for souls
[04:31.838]Jimmy followed the code inside the land of the free
[04:34.969]Put your hand inside the cookie jar, take more than you need
[04:38.371]And his example is exaggerated versions of me
[04:41.654]And it's a version of him, and it's a version of she
[04:44.989]And it's a version of you, there’s no escaping the blame
[04:48.210]The way we live is parasitic, **** the money and fame! Cut the music!
[04:57.786]This ain't entertainment, this is real-life
[05:01.344]The way we live is lunacy, community, it declines
[05:05.108]Hyperpolarized, we're always fighting, and we divide
[05:09.042]Truth is less important than the money that we design?
[05:13.086]Money's an invention, politics from our invention
[05:16.146]They all come from peoples' ideas, did I mention?
[05:19.256]Borders? An invention, law, and order fuel the tension
[05:22.241]That leads to people killing each other. My solution?
[05:26.824]Everything is subject to change
[05:29.853]We could build utopias if individuals were taught to use their brains
[05:33.543]But if we teach kids in school to always be sheep
[05:36.918]And put themselves before the herd if there's more money for me
[05:40.278]Then there's no future I see, where the humans survive
[05:44.257]We're parasites inside a Petri dish with cannibal minds
[05:47.436]Mold will grow upon a surface, then consumes till it dies
[05:50.736]And our fate could be the same, without the story to the wise
[05:56.840]Forty-five, Jimmy comes home out of the rain
[06:00.106]Soaking wet upon a wheelchair, drinking again
[06:03.468]He is everything he wants, he is fortune and fame
[06:07.153]Such a fortunate fool with an unfortunate fate
[06:11.283]With a 45 caliber aimed at his brain
[06:14.539]Forty-five- a fitting number, 'cause his age is the same
[06:18.156]Hears the words of his father; "Such a damn shame"
[06:24.716]Then he presses on the trigger of a money game

作曲 : Ren Gill
Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy
One years old and his first words were "Mine, mine, gimme!"
Two years old he was walking, three years old walking quickly
Four years old he was running around the pavement of his city
Five years old and his daddy told him
"Listen here son, you gotta learn to be a man! A man who work for what he want."
Six years old and his reading writing is top on the bunch-
-and when he is seven his progression made him student number one
Eight years old and he's praised for unusual grades
Nine, his parent pay for private school to nurture the flame
Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, he ascends and ascends.
His daddy tells him "Son, money is the means to end."
Fourteen, solving complex mathematical equations
At fifteen, IQ a hundred and fifty still elevating
sixteen, he develops complex software code that detects weaknesses in cyber security protocols
Seventeen and he sells his vision keeping a share
Not yet an adult but he's practically a millionaire
Eighteen, and his daddy tells him "Now you're a man!-
-This world don't giva a damn about you so take all that you can!"
Nineteen, he turns a profit stocks and shares invest in product. Twenty, double-down deposits
Twenty-one, on his income roket. Twenty-two, he learns the truth is just an obstacle to wealth-
-if you manipulate the data then the lie will sell it self
Twenty-three, a life of luxury, crystal and cocaine.
Twenty-four, he makes the Forbes list they applauding his name
Twenty-five, and his daddy tells him
"Listen here son, while you're sitting in that palace that don't mean that you won."
Twenty-six, a business shift, he switches business to arms.
He's Twenty-seven dealing nuclear and shells in Iran
Twenty-eight, inside the senate money bought him his seat.
He's Twenty-nine a role of councel in the president, sweet
Now he's thirty and his daddy says
"You're losing the race. You're just a servant to the king, not even in second place"
thirty-one, a big maneuver for his daddy's approval,
moving imports over borders from the exports out of Cuba
thirty-two, moving grams, growing kilos to tonnes.
He's thirty-three, filling warehouses with powder and guns
Thirty-four, turf war with nobody to stop it.
Blind eye from the po-po inside of his pocket
Thirty-five and he gets a call "I'm sorry son. It's your father, had a heart attack, I'm sorry, he's gone"
Thirty-six, getting pissed up, abusing his product.
Thirty-seven, eyes glazed, disposition demonic
Thirty-eight, with a prostitute, a moment of passion.
Heating up a silver spoon and then chasing the dragon
Thirty-nine, getting reckless and hungry for power.
Daddy's words still driving him to kill and devour
He makes a move against the cartel, but the strategy's flawed.
They retaliate and leave him in a hospital ward
A bullet buried in the vertebra and one in the leg
The doctor sighs and says "I don't think you'll be walking again", ****
Let me tell you a story about a boy named Jimmy
He was forty and he cursed the words "Mine, mine, gimme"
Forty-one, he wasn't walking, forty-two, not walking quickly
Forty-three, never running around the pavements of his city
Forty-four, inside his palace with a mountain of gold
But those riches turn to rubble when perspective evolves
Weighing heavy on his conscience is the value of gold
A Lamborghini for a life, trading money for souls
Jimmy followed the code inside the land of the free
Put your hand inside the cookie jar, take more than you need
And his example is exaggerated versions of me
And it's a version of him, and it's a version of she
And it's a version of you, there’s no escaping the blame
The way we live is parasitic, **** the money and fame! Cut the music!
This ain't entertainment, this is real-life
The way we live is lunacy, community, it declines
Hyperpolarized, we're always fighting, and we divide
Truth is less important than the money that we design?
Money's an invention, politics from our invention
They all come from peoples' ideas, did I mention?
Borders? An invention, law, and order fuel the tension
That leads to people killing each other. My solution?
Everything is subject to change
We could build utopias if individuals were taught to use their brains
But if we teach kids in school to always be sheep
And put themselves before the herd if there's more money for me
Then there's no future I see, where the humans survive
We're parasites inside a Petri dish with cannibal minds
Mold will grow upon a surface, then consumes till it dies
And our fate could be the same, without the story to the wise
Forty-five, Jimmy comes home out of the rain
Soaking wet upon a wheelchair, drinking again
He is everything he wants, he is fortune and fame
Such a fortunate fool with an unfortunate fate
With a 45 caliber aimed at his brain
Forty-five- a fitting number, 'cause his age is the same
Hears the words of his father; "Such a damn shame"
Then he presses on the trigger of a money game