money [Theme]

But I worry too much about what other people think.

grandsonblood // water

Lights, camera, acción
I'll do it on my own
Don't need your money, money
To get me what I want

Свет, камера, мотор!
Я справлюсь сама,
Мне не нужны твои деньги,
Чтобы получить то, чего я хочу.

Your time your money, all that glitters
Are in the back of beyond.
You'll still remember well my body
When you're old.




Your time, your money, all these trinkets
Have no meaning.
You're still remember is my body
In his old age.

You think the money that u make
Can substitute the time u take.




Do you think the money you make
Coulda spent time on them.

Nothin' phony with us,make the money,
get the mansion, bring the homies with us
Swizz




We don't make mistakes, we make money,
we buy houses, bring the money home
The trick

They tell me keep it simple, I tell them take it slow
I feed and water an idea so I let it grow
I tell them take it easy, they laugh and tell me no
It's cool but I don't see them laughing at my money though
They spittin' facts at me, I'm spittin' tracks, catch me?
I'm spinning gold out my records know you can't combat me
They tell me "Jesus walks", I tell them money talks
Bling got me chill, cause I'm living in an ice box
They tell me I've been sleepin', I say I'm wide awake
Tracks hot and ready so they call me mister e-z bake
They say the grass is greener, I think my grass is dank
Drivin' with a drank on an empty tank to the bank.




They tell me to be easier, I tell them not to hurry.
I feed and sing idea, so I let it grow.
I tell them calm down, they laugh and say "no"to me.
That's cool, but I don't see that they were laughing at my money
They spit at me with facts I spit the tracks, caught me?
I spin gold from his records, you know you can't fight me.
They tell me that Jesus walks in, I tell them that the money speak for themselves.
Of these trinkets to me getting cold because I live in a box with ice.
They tell me that I was sleeping, and I say that not sleeping.
The tracks are hot and ready, so they call me Mr. e-Z bake-o.
They say the grass is greener, I think my grass raw
We're going drinking on an empty tank to the Bank.
(Telling me "screw you", my answer is "Wait"
The idea I cherished, so that she could grow
My answer is "Calm down", telling me just "No"
Laughing at me in high esteem, there is always only lave,
Throw argument. I give immediately the track
I do the close, and you can't cope with it,
Telling me" God's gift", and I really fat,
A gold chain is like your whole fee,
Telling me "fell Asleep-that is," and I drew the curtains,
Track by track, I almost sawing conveyor,
The grass there is greener. and my cannabis,
The Bank drove drunk I'm in the tank for an encore.)