Beauty is a skill

i say tomato (toh-may-toh) so instead you say (toh-mah-toh), and i say light-skinned but you say mulatto. i dont know, i prefer to go straight off the chest, ya suck certain judges ****s and then you paid off the rest, with your bootleg apparell and counterfeit poetic license, your necks too skinny to cope this pathetic crisis. instead of flippin the script, i toss the fader, and throw it back and forth like im playin hot potato. god, mind, and body parts so bear witness devils, and put on a pair of shorts to compare fitness levels. old school b-boys request the response, so i lifted the veil in the fiesta resistance. i lie when im rappin, i tell the truth when im cuttin, girls around the way say im cute as a button, and its him, johnny rockwell, male model, see him next, freestylin on the microphone or on a bmx, knowin the length and not crashin half way. im chillin and coolin at the fashion cafe, eatin a salad and drinking mad champaign, and signin the deal for the missoni ad campaign. its just a day in the life of a pretty face, sometimes in business, these people with their shitty tastes of a high heel shoe in their mouth with a foot in it, as for me, i got money and thats where im puttin it. where my mouth is, you know the science.