You can talk but I still want you to leave to other masses
As long as you don't spend some days without your sunglasses
That absorb the screams of classes but not the great debaters
And, hei, don't forget your aviators
Every single thing you touch sounds plain, simple, easy
Whilst your politics and philosophy at best gets a subtitle as something ******
So live, love, laugh and money has never grown on trees
Means if I'll ever need it I'll ask for your expertise that seems to always come with ease
Like mayo on chips
Or a mayor with his chicks
But instead of beauties you have a rotten mix of hardened constructions and distractions that form in one-off interactions
Media would love you, the public as well
Whilst people would ******* to hell
Because ******* do: with all the major philosophies
But I will not ***** you 'cause of all the ******* STDs
Clap for ******, bow to gonorrhea
You won't be getting rid of those any time soon, will ya?
You know you are gaining victories to Socrates, you always come first
Are you worse than what I can get from you?
You are aware of your existential thirst
But to know something they all need to be rich
So I'll tell you what you are
You are a philosopher's *****