"So one time for my disillusioned artists, I hear yaTwo times for the kid that air-guitars in the mirrorThree times for the 9-to-5-in' bus ridin' dudesAnd four times for my dreamers, yo I'm just like youThat's why I sing for my queens with their own pair of wingsMy brothers flyin' beside me, drama behind meMama tried to find me, she inquired emphaticallyI was in the sky with all these other ghetto kids, defying gravity, uh"