Текст песни Constance (Joey Beats remix) - Mr. J. Medeiros

An old man vacationing he stands patently
Under a hotel sign that blinks vacancy
He's thinking maybe he's to late to make the drop off
Until a truck coming his way breaks and stops short
And now he's out of sorts and you can see he's sorta nervous
Walking to the passenger door to meet his ordered service
This is someone's daughter working blames his conscience
The driver says, "She's my youngest, her name is Constance."
He comments, "...and its only six dollars per visit
Just don't leave any marks on her, it hurts business"
Thought for a minute then confessed, "That's fair."
Since it was three dollars less then his cab fare
"How old are you honey?" she says, "I'm thirteen."
Her nose was runny its raining in the Philippines
He hands over the money in a chilling scene
The truck drives off and now he's on the hunt to kill her dreams
The sign reads no vacancy
He leads Constance to a room he has rented for taping
See he's about to turn six into six thousand
And all you have to do is click on your web browser
It's not illegal to use rapping as a cash crop
As long as it says she's 18 on your laptop
The sound of rain is her backdrop laying there
Like she's waiting for somebody to say they care
While the tears of God fall down the window pane
She feels unholy like the Father doesn't know her name
Marry Magdalene and the women at the well
He knows everything that happens
And in His arms she fell
He's twenty one and all alone in his household
He's tempted by the quiet he feels and the mouse he holds
The silence of his spouse is cold
So he's about to help that man get his six thousand gold
One click and now she's
Withholding is conscience scrolling trough the comments
There she is looking confident a picture of Constance
In a series of video clips "Adult Content"
The title blinks in bold letters like the vacancy sign
It's his time to go get her
It's like his mind doesn't know better
Her soul is crying out, "Let me go." but he won't let her
He got her trapped inside his media player
Held captive by his need to reply her
It's a matter of he being here and she being there
That's why he doesn't feel the need to care
Guilt is in the seed he bared
Spilling his shares of the profit
On a five hundred million dollar market
Where children are regarded as product
And traded like stock tips
And rapped for the sake of our pockets
His laptop sits like a window into Constance's room
Where he exits cus its almost noon
And he's expecting his wife home soon
With new clothes for the baby
She'd be angry if she saw his new lady
A thirteen-year-old Filipino names Constance
Trust me girl God has not forgotten
If He knew Mary Magdalene and the women at the well
He knows everything happened and in His arms she fell