Gatsby

You know that money is everything, right
Nah, that's just a myth
(Ninja)

(Teehee-hee!)
Yeah, I keep my money like I keep my cough medicine
Locked up tight, and the cherry flavoring
Don't catch me being greedy, but I got somethin' to say
I'm materialistic, just like Tyler Bay
I like my furniture clean, and pricey, too
Don't ever talk to me, unless I'm talking to you
I coat my food in honey, cause it's a delicacy
Some say I'm bad with money, others call me Jay Gatsby

Jay, Jay, Jay
Don't run away, Tom Buchanan, he gonna make you pay
Money got you that mansion, and all your friends
But you know you're missing something, and it ain't a 'Benz
Jay, you need Daisy, come on, reel her in
But ya money couldn't get ya everything

I drop money like the U.S. dropped the bomb on Hiroshima
They say that I symbolize the American dream
I climbed the corporate ladder, from the ground up
Established my wealth, in a few simple hold-ups
I wouldn't say I'm a criminal, nor am I a thief
But on my momma, I am a member of the Beef
Instead of filling Tylenol, Xanax in the box
I be down in these bad boys quicker than the spread of chicken pox
I'd risk it all, for a day success
If my name were to be ruined, I'd release it to the press
Unless, I'm in stress
These days I need some space
So get the hell out of here, with your greasy ass-face
Tryna bang me for money, tryna suck me for cash
Bitch, I'll hit you in the gut with the Steve Nash bounce pass

Jay, Jay, Jay
Don't run away, Tom Buchanan, he gonna make you pay
Money got you that mansion, and all your friends
But you know you're missing something, and it ain't a 'Benz
Jay, you need Daisy, come on, reel her in
But ya money couldn't get ya everything

Some people lead a life of luxury
Well, I'm one of them, so feed me 'cause I'm hungry
I'll have mayonnaise, spinach and some rice
Douce it in some chive onions, add some spice
If you wanna work for me, well you best know how to cook
Be the Walter White, while I read my yearbook
Year 2007, shit took me to heaven
Had a class with my buddies, we ain't ever heard of Tyler
(Blevins!)
I got so much excess of disposable income
I want a snack, bring me a fresh plum
That's what I say to one of my many maids
They put on a nice outfit as they throw me a parade

Yeah, I didn't ask for no life of luxury
But I'm damn sure glad I got it
Beef



Credits
Writer(s): George Dalle-molle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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