This is a song about "Dollars"

We're barely making dollars at our peanut jobs, close to me,

Lips, hips, hair drops down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

Getting paid off our operation we ain't even doctors

Resurrected your spirit, with lyrics for top dollars

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt

Call it bubonic, getting all the dollars and

George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve

And see i grew up poor, i probably didn't have two dollars,

I wanna kill churches, they take your dollars they claim's for allah,

The beer flowin' like water, louie bag with the prada

A few hundred dollars and some reviewed proverbs

Most of them ain't conscious, they just monsters

Don't believe me? then watch me empty out a full clip

Told me to get a scholarship cause when them dollars flip,

Like the dollars sign, my words i call are mine

If the bitch bad i could pass you a dime