The problem with money is that it runs out
I wish they wouldn't send letters because it's bad for the planet
I never open them, why would I fuck up my day that way?
Instead I let em pile up like jenga

I'm on the end of the phone and bro she's letting me have it
Saying I'm never at home coming in hammered I've had it
Don't you know I got trips to take
Still this white man telling me step this way
I guess it will get better when I'm rich and famous

Bredren I pay my taxes
You can't talk to me like I'm a dickhead
No, no, no
Bredren I pay my taxes
And I walk in the crepes I was given
No, no, no

You n***as think it's a game wanna play streets of rage out here
Cos whatever the day we're getting pocket change
It's all handbags till it's not, and a good man drops
And n***as dig in the scriptures for the right thing to say

Bredren I pay my taxes
You can't talk to me like I'm a dickhead
No, no, no
Bredren I pay my taxes
And I walk in the crepes I was given
No, no, no
Bredren I pay my taxes
You can't talk to me like I'm dickhead
No, no, no