Track 22 - Get Money, Get Power, Get Naked
(Prod. by Charles Mueller)

Used to be the king of elementary, cause I had all the money in the world
All the kids at lunch tried to sit with me, especially all them pretty ass girls
Im alright at riding bikes, Night-to-night, my type is white skinny girls who think my shit is dynamite
And not generic, its apparent that I am blaring women staring and caring I run em like errands
Grocery bags are full of my swag, getting it bad at the laundrymat,
Slaying wannabe cats, going on vacations with their ugly dads
Now it comes to college I dont have any money, and I dont have anything to offer honeys
But when you got money they come running and coming lemme make it less fuzzy

I want money so I can have power and riches and riches and riches
I just want power so I can get naked with all of these different bitches
Exploring when we intercoursin, bacon and porkin
Misfortunate proportions never stop our endorphins
Coercing to let her be forcing my foreskin, insider her coordinates,
But we just spoon instead of forkin, all talk aaron sorkin
Moneyball, I got stacks on deck, yelling at the bank to cash my check
How could you ask for this? Get that A always pass that test,
I met a masochist who tried to pass a fist, but every one who wants battles this
Gets throw down, London bridge bitch goes down, women Im with know how
Cause I can teach em, no child left behind its an uphill battle
Getting into it I stick a wigglin worm little bit futher in her apple
Wake and baked, naked rape victims with my steak and eggs,
Get scummy on the day-to-day
Fly like baron, Im tearing on what they wearin son, arms kinda tired from the game that Im carrying,

Snuffing on the aerosol, where do I get the where with all to never care at all, lick my hairy balls
Im a humble know at all, a know a lot, still hot whether you know it or not
Make it sugar coated I wrote it when I was loaded, not with money but with booze and pot
Tell it from the words I spell when Im high all my Is are missing their dots
I prefer my jays and els, demons in my garden, Im raising hell
Nameless to famous to aimless to heinous and I could never think of containin myself
Ifya got money, drinks all around, when your broke youre just a dude in a bar
You could do the women if you knew guitar, but gotta pay off all you student and car

Loans go home to your motor home, masturbate, fry up provolone
Slow your rolls cause some hoes are cold and hold their nose
Towards people who got no where in their life to go, I write my flows, Go toe to toe
With hoards of girls who know my quotes, always throwin their loads
Into conversation, I hate on what they sayin
And you would too if you had money to back it,
See yo boy Brandon in a nice ass jacket, leather, classic,
chapstick, rappin, pick it up a little for some action
Bling go bing bing, playing with my ding dong, does my sing song voice seem wrong?
Wing wang wolla walla bing bang, while I got women saying ooh la la
Wham, cause this man brings the brew haha, holding hands with bitches kumbaya
Cookie monster crumby, not hungry, Brandon got the country
hoes and bros and pimped out clothes and always got lots of money

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