"Everybody wants to be friends with the prep school boys
The one who sports Valentino and Ralph and Ross
The one who eat caviar with smoked salmon everyday
Do you know that all they do is cry in the backseat of their limos
You don't know what you're getting into
If you don't know the difference between Boss and Gucci
One's for you, one's for Florida rappers who die of overdoes
One's for when he takes you out for dinner to surprise you with pearls
One's for when he's bout to leave you for some girl he met on the street
You don't know what you're getting into
Everyone just waits to see them open up and cry
Because they're so reserved/ the ideal guy right?
Because when he opens up you feel special
Because he's closed himself from everybody else
You don't know what you're getting into
Here's a hint --- if he's confessing in his limo and not the back of taxi
If he's confessing to a quiet glass of champagne instead of tea
If he's confessing into his suit instead of pajamas and disheveled hair
If he's confessing to Mozart instead of Offspring --- he's not confessing
You don't know what you're getting into
No one really likes smoked salmon; it tastes like the ocean
No one really likes mussels; they taste like stretchy fish sand
No one really likes Versace; the logo is just big enough to subtly brag about
No one really likes opening up, we just like pretending we can be trusted
You don't know what you're getting into
The lifestyle of the rich and famous is not a lifestyle at all
It is one where a prep school boy hates his father
Grows to become his father / it starts with one drink of scotch
And then suddenly he's in the same suit, the same hair gel, the same watch
He doesn't know what he's gotten into
They say money can only last for three generations
Because everyone is so afraid of becoming their parents
Sure, it's basically already gotten me into college and a job as a CEO
But it's also almost gotten me killed / nights standing on the edge of a roof
Without knowing what I'd gotten into
TV has romanticised so much of boys tearing themselves open
It's not poetic, and just because he buys you that Bulgari necklace
It does not mean that he is healing / it means he is going back to where he came from
And I promise you it isn't just prep school boys / it is the girls too
Because in the end we never know what we get ourselves into
Some nights all you can do is watch as the children cry
And you have to hide in a closest because it's the only place you can be broken
Without having to be strong
Some nights you're greatful and some nights you just want to end it all
But you can't because you didn't know what you got yourself into
Summary? Just find someone who will listen to Kendrick Lamar with you
Or Enya, if that's what you're into / just make sure he's not analysing
The way his parents taught him to for social lives
Everyone wants to be friends with the prep school boys
I promise they are not what you think you are getting into.
I am recently on #9 in poetry avahahgssmkskssysjsj it feels so good /// and tysmmm babies 😭
