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Chorus
Now that I have
All the money in the world
Or close enough to it
And it’s discontent
There is always a gun
And a girl
And an unbridled mother’s love
To comfort you
From the hatred of
The other 99 percent
Verses
An artist is admired
For his eye
And his attention to
Her every need
When he lights up
The highlights
Of a summer sky
And the colors bleed
Like his broken heart
As she comforts him
With a cooling cloth
And a breast that makes
A teenager, want, to
Beat himself to death
In his bedroom
With the lights out
Pre Chorus
There is always something
More beautiful
When you a looking suave and
Styling
And sometimes I make a fool of
Myself
Rather do that
Than die alone inside
The Lunatic Asylum
M8
Some people have it
And some people don’t
Ain’t no use complaining
Cos no one is listening
Anyways
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