Lletres: Comadre. Who's Got The Golden Ticket Now?.

This house is packed
to the motherfucking bone,
but I forget the reasons why we're here.
hold on, hold on, hold on,
i gotta take this call,
"yeah, I got respect
i'm sure I can hear everything better from outside."
so go stand outside
and make sure looks good and tell me,
does this parking lot remind you of any thing?
it will be here tomorrow (it will be here tomorrow)
but this noise won't.
my jeans are tighter than yours
my brains are hella bigger than yours 600,000,000 points for me.
but how's your heart? battleship sunk!