I make more
Mama told you to hate the rich man
When you're poor
I make more
'Cause one day finally I realized
There's no encore
I don't know if anybody is whole
That moment's gone
There's no paradise just whimsical woes
And charlatans
Chase that bag then (Dig your hole)
Realize there's no miracles just
Luck and sex and made up goals
I make more but (I'm a poor soul)
You don't know what you know or what you don't
Guess that's the charm
Curiosity makes all the more dough
Just throw the dart (Oh)
Chase that bag then (dig your hole)
Realize there's no miracles just
Luck and sex and made up goals
I make more but (I'm a poor soul)
Ooh, yeah, let's eat the rich
Let's eat the rich
Ooh, yeah, let's eat the rich
I heard they taste like chocolate
Ooh, yeah, let's eat the rich
Let's eat the rich
Ooh, yeah, let's eat the rich
I heard they taste like chocolate
Chase that bag then (Dig your hole)
Realize there's no miracles just
Luck and sex and made up goals
I make more but (I'm a poor soul)
It is with the greatest pleasure
That the King and Queen announce the betrothal of their dearly beloved son
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
