Warn a Brotha

[Verse 1]
I sent my demo to the demons up at Warner Brothers
Now they say they wanna sign me - lyin motherfuckers
I know I'm gettin got, but shit I need a start
I'll renegotiate, once I hit the charts
But now I kick back, and enjoy the ride
Spend my advance, and swallow my pride
I could still be living at home
But instead I'm fucking bad bitches living on my own

[Hook x2]
He told me sign on the line with my life
He told me that I'd had the time of my life
Hey yo, I never met this man in my life
But holy SHIT! Hot damn, he was right!

[Verse 2]
I make big money, I drive big cars
These crackers never seen a nigga play the guitar
We selling out shows, when the group perform
They treat black rock bands like unicorns
Now I'm doing porn, but not professionally
And every city got the finest chick blessing me
And what's the recipe? Just do you
FUCK The Rolling Stones, and FUCK U2

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
It happens so fast, that I can't believe it
Between the pills and the lean, I still think I'm dreaming
I meet idols, people I looked up to
Some are assholes, some are fucking cool
I'm just another dude who lived the dream and made it big
Now everybody wants to party with the famous kids
Now I'm standing on tables in the V.I.P
I think I'm 2Pac, I think I'm B.I.G

[Hook]

[Bridge]
Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)
Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)
Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)
Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (CRASH!)

[Interlude]
So it's like you on tour, everything is beautiful
You living this dream, it's, nothing like you ever done (FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)
Or you're seein shit you never seen before
And you're kinda insulated in this bubble
Of this repetitive cycle where you wake up, do the same songs
For the same crowd of people in a different city (FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)
But it's the same shit everyday, then all of the sudden
The tour's over, and you're back home
And you're just trying to go back to be the nigga you was before
And your homies are like, "Man.. (FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)"

(FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)

[Verse 4]
Back in the hood, fresh off tour
I'm with my boys and we're walking to the corner store
Fuck is everybody asking me for money for?
So I give a little, but they ask for more
Yeah I'll sign that, yeah I'll take a flick
But some of you motherfuckers really think you're slick
You ain't getting over, I ain't a sucka nigga
My big homey tried to warn me 'bout you fuck niggas
I'm 'bout my real homies, who woulda stuck with me
Now they wanna get paid to roll to the club with me
Cause I'm getting money, ain't that a bitch
Y'all ain't getting nothing - (FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)
We grew up together, on the same shit
Yeah I'm getting money, but I ain't rich
Even if I was, man I'd never switch
Y'all ain't getting nothing - (FUCK - THAT - SHIT!)