Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,
Now all i want is more my little pony toys to play wit
Bow your heads-i see the lines of my beaten artist hearses.
At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses
The mask is on 'em like a catholic service
I'll imprison your loved ones in burning furnace
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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