Have you ever seen a rich person?
It's not like that movie about rich people–
Their struggles. The children they've seen die.
The coldness of rich people hearts.
Put your money in meat, rich people know.
When they die, they have yachts full of meat.
Have you ever been to Miami?
Do rich people rollerblade near the beach?
Do rich people splash around in mounds of cocaine?
You've really been to Miami? Jesus.
Do you know, are there yachts?
I hear about Will Smith
And the manatee. A beautiful creature.
Not unlike a special-needs child,
to be cared for by others.
Do rich people have breasts in Miami?
Yachts covered in big breasts?
Jesus, man. Real breasts.
The rich have hearts.
Big fucking hearts, as big as a yacht.
You can tell by the size of the beautiful manatee.
I've seen them. They're unbelievable.
Time passes, and the rich gather up the meat.
They head back to their yachts. They share protein.
They cocoon themselves in rich animal fiber,
Like our fire-burnt ancestors, and chant.
There's a chant that's beautiful
And only the rich know it. Something about cocaine,
The way it makes a set of breasts. Right?
They can stand on a yacht and feel.
