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for the love of money - danny swain lyrics

[chorus] – 4x
gotta make that money, mayne (money, mayne)
gotta make that money, mayne (money, mayne)

[verse 1]
hustlers chase it, busters race for it
b-tches spend it, the rich transcend it
reagan took it, made it crooked
introduced crack to blacks
made ’em cook it
teachers need it, preachers plead for it
soldiers in iraq fight and bleed for it
kings earn it, fiends burn through it
to chase a high
does that make it right?
hoes spot it, dough knotted
it ain’t trickin’ if you got it
johns pay it, moms pray for it
sinners swoop down and invade vegas
banks loan it
they make a n-gga sign his life away
to f-cking borrow it like they own it
drug dealers stash it in their coupe door
and the military use it to recruit the poor
e pills? three bills
kim won’t s-x ya but shari will
cause who the f-ck gonna pay these bills
so she will f-ck you ’cause hey, she’s trill
drug money, blood money
everybody love money
corporate spokesman adorned in snake skin
cornucopia, fornication
(“money all i do is think about it, dream about it
read about it in the fortune 500, i want it”)
the root of all evil has a green hue
but you say the penthouse has a mean view
and as for me
it’s asinine
to try to ascertain
what my -ss attains
if i can’t be swain
with a dollar sign swapped for the s
then i guess that’s a d-mn shame
ay

[chorus]

[verse 2]
and my dude
had a condo, with another condo in it
he rented rooms, and his mom’s a tenant
so all he did was cash his checks
never catch him broke
lavatory stacked with forty bas-kee-ets
basquiats, i always corrected him
no disrespect to him
i got a uncle, diabetic
amputated his foot, we call him peg leg pete
when he put on his shoe, he pr-nounce it nick-ee
‘stead of nike, so that sh-t remind me of him
my n-gga’s from the streets, never tried to fit in
f-ck he care about a proper pr-nunciation
long as he gettin’ props for his profits
his pops was a prophet
treated me like one of his own
stayed over there when i ain’t wanna come home
a dollar and a dream, his old man owned a dry cleaners
after school he’d let us sweep and earn a little green to
get our boots and jeans up
my dude’s a g*nius
went to bloomingdale’s and got a suit, got clean cut
copped work from this n-gga kareem
the po-po never suspected a thing
and meanwhile
my little money was scared, i wasn’t making any
at 17, worked the stockroom, j. c. penney
at 17, he worked the block, cool, chasing henny
with tea and weed, heathen, he
three kis a week, this crazy b-tch keyed his jeep
if it was me i’d slap the broad
he said he had to get out of dodge
and lay low for a couple of weeks
he said “d, could you please hold a couple of kis?”
no other info was offered, so off he went
i never saw him again
but found out he was snitched on
by none other than his pops
took his money and he built another dry clean shop
ay

[chorus]

- danny swain lyrics

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