Letras:
The Damned Lovely Money

Soho bars And end up feeling sickie [Non-compositional] More money, more money More money, more money Now off you go, away you fly We've had your money

their right (ha) Can you feel that (yeah) Well pay them with love tonight... [Chorus:] It's not about the money, money, money We don't need your money, money, money

I could really use some answers Now-a-days everybody wants to be a rapper About two years ago everybody was a trapper Obviously, money is what everybody

scene; it?s a God damn arms race This ain?t a scene; it?s a God damn arms race This ain?t a scene; it?s a God damn arms race I?m not a shoulder to cry

: [Verse 1 -Paul Cain] Damn Ma I love you like a lie I get a rush from your touch, sort of like a high I used to adore your presence but now I?m like

you can style on I got a coupe that I'm finna' put some miles on And I ride on these niggaz wit a smile on See I'm 'bout stackin' money but when they

by me on the highway Cop: you know how fast you were going? Fab: nah not at all man Cop: you must have been going pretty damn fast because my radar is

to jail to say he love you? We be killing them, boy we be killing them! Damn, we used to dream to have a million Now the family get money like Will and

we gang members almost [?] Not the boats but get your but like the [?] My wrecken sales could never reflect my respect What god damn death Jim for reverend [?] Money