I got cash in f** you quantities
Know what?
That makes you uncomfortable?
f** you and the Range Rover you drove in on
f** your Saab convertable
And f** your twice weekly trips to the an*lyst
Stupid mutha f**
f** the Hamptons
The fly infested south of France
I'm paid a**hole
I got more cash than God can count
So why don't you just... die?
Choke to d**h on your damn designer bagel from Balducci's
Low cholesterol, naturally
f** your big ol' Sunday New York Times
f** the Wall Street Journal
And News Week
And the lot
Including Nation, Village Voice, Guardian and the rest
Stupid set of priviliged mutha f**ers
Think its fashionable to have an alternative view
An alternative view
And f**, if you can
Your pencil thin, Evian drinking, calorie counting, caffiene limiting, sodium spearing, nutrasweet sweetening, read view mirror preening, carrot nibbling bunny
Go drown in a lake of Diet Coke, f**er
I got cash, what else matters?
I got cash
Slave
f** your fencing and screw your squash
Piss on your Paulo and your Pavarotti
f** all that sh** you call music and pretend to enjoy
I got cash
Mega cash
I'm happy with that
Oh go and sit on your ski rug
Money talks you little p**y
You let your politically correct pals know
That i think you're a dick also
You dirty a**hole
And your idea of multiculturalism
Japanese resturant on Monday
Indian on tuesday
And on Wednesday, Caribbean
Not to spicy please
Well
I got stash on stash and it ain't novo cash
Moneys in my family for generations
My great great great grandfather made the bag
Selling European slaves in Africa
I got cash mutha f**ah
And you can't tell whether or not I'm joking, can you?
Dumb f**