Erykah Badu - Friends, fans, and artists must meet lyrics

Friends, fans, artists must meet
Which one are you, which one is me?
Friends, fans, and artist must meet
Which one are you, which one are me?

FANS god, please, o, please
Let her breathe my way
If she sing my song today I can be okay
See I understand the message in
The song she write
I was really happy for her
When she won tonight
She a rebel for the struggle
Fighting just like me
I know she down to sing
At the cookout for free
I was kinda disappointed with
The song she wrote
Went to her website, wrote a long ass note
She done made a million dollars
But she down to earth
She be rocking Chuck Taylors and
A thrift sto' purse
Signing autographs 'til the park was dark
I know it's kinda hard when
They love your art in the magazines they be
Twisting up the facts
But her response was fair
I like how she come back
She be sanging for the world
Sharing all her pain
When she fell up in the game she had changed
Fans, friends, artist must meet
Which one are you which 1 are me

FRIENDS
Folk in the face like she ain't the same
Still the same bitch
She just changed her name
She don't really like to hang around
With us no mo '
Wasn't nothing like that back in '94
She be falling in the spot
With a fat aass grin now she roll a Benz
She don't need no friends
She only really made it cause
Her skin is light
Don't nobody really understand that
Shit she write
She done made a million dollars
She can give us some
She be having fun, shit we wanna have fun
Seen her early in the morning
Looking bad as hell
Gon' be looking really funny when
Her shit don't sell
Airport, 'bout to miss a flight
Four carry-ons talking 'bout "pack light"
Oo, please, o, please, give the queen her tea
I only come to the show cause i get in free

Friends, fans, artist must meet
Which one are you which one are me?
Fans, friends, and artist must meet
Which 1 are you?

ARTIST folk in my face cause I'm a supastar
Niggass hang around cause of who I are
Get a lot of love cause of what I got
Say they happy for me, but they really not
Sell a lot of records and I roll a Benz
Fall up in the spot, now I'm losing friends
All I wanna do is give the world my heart
Record label trying to make
Me compromise my art
Make a million dollars, make a million mo '
Tax time come around, still a nigga po'
I wanna say wait, but I'm scared to ask
The world start spinning and it's moving fast
Try to stay sane, it's the price of fame
Spending my life trying to numb the pain
I shake that load off and sing the song
Liberate the mind and I go on home