cs: 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 Oooh yeah let’s eat the rich let’s eat the rich ah Oooh yeah let’s eat the rich I Heard they taste like chocolate ah Oooh yeah let’s eat the rich let’s eat the rich ah Oooh 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
