The Runway Battle

Paroles de « The Runway Battle »

They said it was just a runway.

Then two men stepped in
like style was about to get judged.

One in red.
One in purple.

And nobody was ready.

The little one came first with the red shirt loud
Blue jeans, red shoes, hair swept high

Some in the back said, “Wait, is that him?”
Red on the floor, stepped into the light
Nope, not the plumber, not here to save
Just a name-tag king trying to look brave

Then the tall one came with that cocky strut
That purple fit so sharp it could almost cut
Long legs walking like the floor was too small

This ain’t a street fight
This is fabric and pride
Two styles collide

One walks simple
One walks insane
One wears his own name
One lives for the fame

The tall one laughed like he bought the whole stage
Said, “Look at that shirt, man, what does it mean?
You wrote your name on your chest like a tag
That’s not fashion, that’s a grocery bag”

“Red little sneakers, jeans from the past
And that white in your hair? Brother, time moves fast
Small little king with a big little claim
Still too short for a tall man’s game”

This ain’t a street fight
This is fabric and pride
Two styles collide

The little one smiled, then stepped into place
Said, “You call that fashion? It’s losing the race
That purple fit looks stretched and wrong
Like your pants showed up three verses too long”

“And your mustache is leading the show
Like your upper lip is fighting for control”

“That L on your hat screaming LOSER
Whole fit looking like a backup chooser
That chin walks first, then the rest follows through”

“You were made for the party, to fill up a chair
The spare tall guy when nobody was there
Always near the fight, never called to begin
Still waiting outside with your long purple chin”

RED SHIRT
WHITE NAME
SMALL GUY
BIG CLAIM

PURPLE SUIT
LONG STRIDE
LONG MUSTACHE
LONG CHIN

WAAAH, WAAAH
HURT PRIDE
LEFT OUTSIDE

PARTY FILLER
SPARE SEAT
NO CALL
NO FAME

Then the tall one tried his final pose.

The little one fixed his shirt
and walked past him.

Not faster.

Better.

This ain’t a street fight
This is fabric and pride
Two styles collide

One walks simple
One walks insane
One wears his own name
One lives for the fame