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Текст (слова) песни: Ill Bill - Economics `91

I love everything about money
You can be a millionaire and never pay taxes

Rust, I got to bust to my destination
I woke up late time from other transportations
Trains and busses – public adorations so better turn
But where I`m going to is a place where it really burns
And burns my brain, my job, my occupation
Another motherfucking source of frustration
4, 25$ an hour, leaves my mouth sour
Minimum wages like I`m caged in the prison tower
Tell you to take out another person flips
They can`t cope so they create their own economics
With an Uzi some ammunition and a flat jacket
Stick up kids, wanna be fat like Buddy Hacket
And get props, ranks, thanks, power position
A piece of paper with a picture of a dead politician
So many times I`ve seen people play stupid for money
And at the funeral it isn`t funny
But nevertheless the world turns, it doesn`t burn
Cause money make the world go round is what I always heard
That`s when I got that sadly look on my face
No matter how fast I run, I always wind up in last place
So I just like to would pick myself up an automatic
So I can end my fate check without a denim static
Got nothing to lose except my head
Yo I`m in it to win it and imma spray the town blood red
Autroprenorial skills coming all fly
And economically it doesn`t matter if somebody die
It`s all about getting the dollars and jewel specs
So give it up before I put your life in fast checks

Yeah I got money coming out my ass
Yeah I got money coming out my ass

 

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