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• Artiste: Prince
• Titre: Marz
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Lost my job at Mickie D's For giving away too much food for free But I couldn't watch another black child go to school With nothing to eat Seven of us then took to the streets Raised by the music, fed by the beat Seeing how long we could stay out of jail It's how we, That's how we'd compete We never own the streets that we kept defending The money we got we just end up spending With nothing to save and not a thing for lending You're never really happy Just good at pretending Everybody in the world wants to be a star Few got what it takes to get that far If a rocket ship didn't cost more than a car A brother might move to marz