Money - Mr. J. Medeiros, Pigeon John

The distance between what I want and really need

Is often further then I’d like to believe

I find myself fighting to receive

That of those temporary treasures

Bent on those various pleasures

Meant to measure a man

Feeling the pressure cus the world got its hand

In my wallet

You can call it a habit

When all the worlds a mall

You feel the draw of the magnet

If I saw it I had to have it

Caught in the traffic

Where mans happiness is bought like magic

Those thoughts are tragic

With no logic only madness here

It’s all a hat trick that got your pockets rocking rabbit ears

I use to laugh in fear

Never seeing my blessing

Then something happened where

I felt the need to be in question

Me or my possession

People or property

I seek to find the lessons

That teach to treat each properly

Learning to give with no worries on the give back

Cus when your dead homeboy

Whatcha gonna do with that

Money it seems funny the meat we’re hunting

Is money like we bees to honey the queen is hungry

For cash

It won’t out last we out fast

When we out pass the last meter we out dash

For the green

Some call it the American dream

Be aware of the scheme

Drowning for that glare in the stream

Yo it’s the doe

If we can’t grow we can’t move

If we can’t let it go then it can’t be used