Money Making Punk
I, got a friend. (Yeah)
Money is his name.
He builds up his own kingdoms, and fells them into shame.
He walks all around, but he ain't got no feet.
He's got a golden chariot, and women are his fleet.
He flies to the moon, and jumps in the sun.
He wipes his ass with silk, when it's all said and done.
People say he's mad, but envy glows their eyes.
Insanity he pleads, but they're all filled with lies.
Brokers aren't broke, they're bums just in disguise.
Money isn't politics, is the lifeblood of a nation.
You can't be injected, but you can take donation.
Scream out loud, tell them money makes you proud.
Tell a bum a joke, and he takes another toke.
Life isn't free, freedom has its price.