Money and power come to us through direct sales,
Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave
Way too big for my my fucking jeans
Im cuttin the sales and makin the scenes,
With sales of fish scales from triple beams i gleam
They said seven tracks, i said fifteen
And the headrest had to have about eight thorns
Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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