Made Of Money - Adam Ant

You think that I’m made of money

You’ve got something coming honey

This ain’t no land of milk and honey

My accountant thinks that’s funny

Instead of trying to use your brains

You sit round and suck my veins

Your kind of rat belongs in drains

You’re gonna get around

You like all those big fancy cars

Trendy people and their wine bars

But your lying will leave its scars

Get around, get on your horse

You think that I’m made of reddies

That makes me choke on my Shreddies

I may smile and act so sunny

But this boy is not your dummy

Marriages are made in heaven

So what the hell happened to mine?