Lyrics:
(gunshots) what's happening money
Damn, nigga money got blasted like that
Fuck man that shit ain't cool dog
Niggas just dying in my
Motherfucking
calls him for that perfect dream
But oh, he's got his demons
And they stay right by his side
Through his everyday hell, yeah
He loves his wine
the love of my-
Raised by the gang with a mill' like Philly
With the watch, two-fifty and a bitch so- (blue, ooh)
Uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
to love in a strange kind of fashion
With lots of hey-ho-de-ho-hi-de-hi
And I can guarantee I`m full of passion
Like the Lorelei
I`m treacherous,
to love in a strange kind of fashion
With lots of hey-ho-de-ho-hi-de-hi
And I can guarantee I'm full of passion
Like the Lorelei
I'm treacherous,
my kind!
My kind!
I'm in love with a down home man.
Simple lovin' I can understand.
I've been hustled by the best of them,
And you ain't nothing
though
Unfortunately i remember being kind of
Intimidated by the idea
Of it actually church was the hood julliard
To me all the coldest musicians came out
Anything you want in this whole wide world
Mama gives you money for Sunday school
You trade yours for candy after church is through
Smoking cigarettes
on lingering?
To watch my love make his retreat
Deep within my heart I weep
My heart should be learning how to sing
Instead of merely waiting and lingering
know, he never walks away
He never asks for money, he takes care of me
'Cause he loves me
Piece by piece, he restored my faith
That a man can be kind
and brown.
"I," said the cow, all white and red
"I gave him my manger for his bed
I gave him my hay to pillow his head."
"I," said the cow, all white and red
Girl's got a goldmine and he's so fine
Girl's got a goldmine and he's all mine
Baby's got a goldmine, treats me so kind
Loves me rain or shine
My
money, but
I know what he really loves you for
It's your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Written by George & Ira Gershwin
The man who only lives for making money
Lives a life that isn't necessarily sunny
Likewise the man who works for
Written by George & Ira Gershwin
The man who only lives for making money
Lives a life that isn't necessarily sunny
Likewise the man who works for
Every night I grab some money and I go down to the bar
I got my buddies and a beer, I got a dream, I need a car
You got me begging on my knees,
Singing in the shower, laughing by the hour
Life is such a breezy game
Love all kinds of weather, long as we're together
I love to hear you say my name
the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do
Drew walks by
long, farewell to all my friends
Be kind to Barbara Allen"
She looked to the east, she looked to the west
She saw his corpse a-comin'
"Oh sit him
on your feet, pretty mama
After when you had no food to eat
Now you're the kind of woman that just don't understand
You're taking all my money and give
Eric Clapton
And all I wanted was one 16 ain't enough
Talking that fast money 15 every month
When your people labelled poor, that motivated me more
gonna have a hit
You gotta make it fit
So they cut it down to three o five
I am the entertainer
The idol of my age
I make all kinds of money
When
better than even money
That the guy's only doin' it for some doll
When you see a Joe
Savin' half of his dough
You can bet there'll be mink in it for
As I walk her down the aisle
Wish it were a thousand miles
My beautiful baby, so beautiful
These tears falling from my eyes
They're taking me by
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