I wrote "L.I.T.P.M." on my hand with your ink pen You asked me what it is, I find out with an ellipsis I was humming, "I've been set free," swerving through security like a ceramic donkey in an inner rant Wearing filthy once-white terrace pants with a broken floor tom, it's such a luxury They might bust my lady but they'll never get me They might bust my lady but they'll never get me What are we good for if we can't make it? What are we good for if we can't make it, make it? What are we good for if we can't make it? What are we good for if we can't make it, make it? Make it, make it Make it, make it You can't control the system, can't control my mind You can't control me, you can't control me