Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto

I hope I don’t die for a long time. I still got things I want to do and look at and boys to talk to. I wanna see an African spirit or like sleep on top of a volcano. I want to talk to (computer voice insert name here) about life, about consciousness, solar plexuses, obnoxiousness, about the secrets.

Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto

I don’t know if I wanna get married but I want to wear bantu knots if I do and purple lipstick like Bianca Jagger.

Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto

The city stinks, full of dead culture, repetition – nah it’s full of people fetishing our culture, my culture. This city is all I know. When I am old I want to be Frida Kahlo or like Sade Adu. I want to live in Peru or the countryside, maybe. It’s quiet and the energy is slow like my cash flow.

Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto Let’s get rid of the ghetto

Anyway, I think the stars hold secrets and nature too. Listen to plants, ignore people. Stars are heavy and reflective like my mind. The stars say we can make it out of the city. But the city is spiked with black goo. You don’t need nobodies. Trust me. The world is a chainsaw that I am ready to destroy.