Lyrics:
himself
But life can get confusing
Whether you're high, low, rich or poor
I swear when you get right down to it
There's only one thing I know for sure
want to be your son
The only lover I'm ever gonna need's
Your soft sweet little girl's tongue
Ah, Rosie, you're the one
Dynamite's in the belfry, baby
Solar-energized rides, no steerin' wheel, tell it how to drive
No propellers in the sky
Airplanes like mini rockets
Waiting lists for the rich to get tickets
I've seen good men turn bad, and bad men do good
Rich men with nothing and poor man with gold
Nothing surprises me no more
I seen players get played
to marry
The big bee sucks the blossom
And the little bee makes the honey
Poor man throws the cotton
And the rich man makes the money
Take me back
quiver aye
R&B you know we playing got me shooting like a pistol (Got me shooting like a pistol)
If she call you by your government just know she stamped
Mr. Mathers claims he had it
I can't imagine it, that little rich, poor, white bastard
Needs to take some of that cash out of the bank and take a bath
for rich for poor
I was tidying my room when my sister saw
And said T why've you still got her pictures for
These moments and memories we keep
Will be
rule remain the same
Either you die rich or die poor
Either you soppy or you fuck
So far you cum
Nobody really cares
How you get rich
So far if dem drop
to be rich
And you find you are left by your lover,
And you moan and you groan quite a lot
You can take it on the chin,
Call a cab and begin to recover
I'm rich
Meanwhile people around me are losing homes
Husbands are cheating, little girls being mothers
Children grow in up without fathers
It's
you're a famous girl with status
I'm a poor boy I'm just an outcast
I can never give you what you can't get
Hey, oh Clara de La Rosa she hails from Costa
respected by society
At the parties at his place
All the rich folks came around
Wasn't long before Billy was the
Mayor of the town bankers put up the money
Mr. Mathers claims he had it
I can't imagine it, that little rich, poor, white bastard
Needs to take some of that cash out of the bank and take a bath
rich, homie we gettin' by
Feel me
Style on them niggas like my surname
Hit your girl, left her there, never knew her name
Rappers basketball, I'm
and child
It cannot be just for the rich or for the poor
If it is, there's gon' be war
I learned rule number two before rule number one (What's that?)
found little Muley and Muley said,
They've been tractored out by the cats,
Tom Joad walked down to the neighbor's farm,
He found his family.
They
shouldn't be
Intoxicated women who when sober they wouldn't be
Getting anywhere, but by exhibiting magic tricks
The girl don't even notice when he's startin'
retreats[01:59.01]Plagued by this futuristic curse[02:01.39]It's numbing our brains like evolution in reverse[02:04.22]It hurts to think of all the young boys and girls being
a Wilt, new gen' Glock
Michael Jordan
Everything y'all do little, boy
Our life enormous
Old school ShittyBoyz vibes
We ain't write a chorus
Up before
got this love so rich
I swear I can't go poor
I'm not your ordinary
Very scary adolescent
I'm just a little girl with some dreams I'm possessing
yourself back into slavery willingly
It's not black and white, it's so much more
It's the rich stayin rich and the poor stayin poor
The poor white's meth,
A poor man walks along the road
Nothing to do nowhere to go
Trying to keep his spirits up by just daydreaming
A rich man who was driving by
He
freewheeler
Who makes a little money selling weed down town
And he dreams of a shop called “The Smoking Teapot”
Selling tea and hash to the people today
I’d
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