Danny - For The Love of Money 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**hes 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***a sign his life away To f**ing 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** ya but Shari will Cause who the f** gonna pay these bills So she will f** 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 a** attains If I can't be Swain With a dollar sign swapped for the S Then I guess that's a damn 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 pronounce it Nick-ee 'Stead of Nike, so that sh** remind me of him My n***a's from the streets, never tried to fit in f** he care about a proper pronunciation 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 genius Went to Bloomingdale's and got a suit, got clean cut Copped work from this n***a 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**h 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]