Still standing I see
With your community college
Psychology degree
Standing tall like a paper doll
Made by little fingers

I don't know why you hate me
Why you laugh about me to your friends
Why you pay hand over fist to the telephone company
Just to talk **** about
Little old me

Here a nickel
There a dime
You're talking about me all the time

When I'm down on the street
Gossip like wind
And Im hearing **** from your so-called friend

I realize the diffference between you and me
Is I can lock things up
And swallow the key