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lirik lagu money, gold, jewelry & more – taskforce

[intro]
(never have i known)
but generally you think what you hear on the radio is terrible
i think basically it’s product
(never have i known)
the reason why it is being manufactured is basically just to make money
(never)
it seems to me they have very little to do with the ummm
(have i known)
the basic reasons for making music in the first place

[hook]
street life rappers, thugged out rappers
sitting on a mansion and yacht with chains dripping
street life rappers, thugged out rappers
sitting on a mansion and yacht with chains dripping
street life rappers, thugged out rappers
sitting on a mansion and yacht with chains dripping
sold out rappers, washed out rappers
selling us the signs of life they’re not living

[verse 1 * chester p]
stars nights with a bellyache
looking at the glitter in the sky
not the stars that the telly makes
all these telly made stars shooting reprobates
drenched in their wealth as they run around and replicate
stretched cars with a bar money decorates
large pockets where they dream from a lepers plate
in a mansion or a yacht’s where they vegetate
hovercraft money and a friend they forever hate
mister gangster stricken by the p*ssy whip
spitting with a d*ck in your mouth is how you’re sounding
slap your light away leave your wings fully clipped
stripping down the jewels in the crown is how you found me
pretty tired of this yuppy being pretty posing
tuck your nose in as reality returns opposing
half this rap world sounding like a sh*tty p*n*s
looking desolate, prostitutes with p*ssy features
pretty clothing got you looking like a fluffy model
in your rare gems looking for another cuddle
in my opinion you’re nuttin’ more than common wh0res
for the money, the jewelry and the gold and more
[bridge]
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of

[hook]
street life rappers, thugged out rappers
sitting on a mansion and yacht with chains dripping
sold out rappers, washed out rappers
selling us the signs of life they’re not living

[verse 2 * farma g]
f*ck a pretty boy singing with a d*ck in him
looking bis*xual is part of the curriculum
record label fashion needs to wear the pink
prepped and painting on your lipstick with hands that’s got sh*t on ’em
take it from the top
and belly flop into oblivion without your f*cking synthesised
to precreated your own rhythm
and it’s a fact you need a chatting to
excuse me dude your tune is moving marga
i was harder when i was in the womb
colonel abraham looking for a c*nt to k!ll
you fresh prince f*ckers hold it down this is uncle phil
no new jacks swinging like he’s teddy riley
no h0m* the streets stand right behind me
f*ck a promo, poster boy pop artists
you ain’t original life forms, you’re dead carcass
f*ck the charts and their target markets
it’s a cold day in h*ll and heat wave’s in the arctic
pretty clothing got you looking like a fluffy model
in your rare gems looking for another cuddle
in my opinion you’re nothing but a common wh0re
for the money, the jewelry and the gold and more
[bridge]
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of
money, gold, jewelry, more
its’ what you’re made of

- taskforce

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