El-P
All the Cash (The Glitch Mob remix)
Born in love
With a bloodline punch
And a time release
That the capsule held so strange

Born a target
Of a frontline punch
And a crime exceeding
Of absolute rage

Rode a train
And a bloodline vain
Where the names of the young
Were hung in our face

Saw the wrong
And withstand the tug
Of my fees
The reason, a big mistake

Brought a lightness
Of those before him
Who held the title
In flesh and name

Said hello
And then said goodbye
And in between
He would plead his case
Saw the dark
And embraced the light
And he felt the crawl
And the call, his fate

Stuck the landing
But tripped the wire
And let every weapon
Off in his face

Saw the looting
And convoluting
Of absolution
That never came

Try polluting
With contribution
And held the moment
That never fade

Brought a withering
Unforgiving
And run to the last
Grand contraband

Caught the harm
And then bought the farm
And that's the part
Where I come in
Chorus:
All the cash
And all the cash
And all the cash
And all the cash
In the world
Can't pay me to let go of you (go of you)
And all the death
And all the death
And all the death
And all the death
They dealt
Don't change the way I fell for you (fell for you)

Try to take it
Oh, you can't
Pry it out my cold dead hand

X2

(yo)
Bought in love
With a bloodline punch
And a time release
That the capsule held so cold
Brought a shrug
Of a one-time fuck
And claimed escape
Well that's quaint, lets go

Rode a train
Of a bloodline vain
Where the eyes of men
Caress head, chest, toe

Saw the rug
And withstand the tug
Of our absent love
Well who the fuck knows

Brought a lightness
Of those before
Who held the title
In flesh not name

Said hello
And then said goodbye
And in between
She would sit and wait

Saw the light
But embraced the dark
As she heard the call
Of her calling hate

"fuck the landing
I'll man the weapons
And hold the battle
To my own fate"

Saw the promise
And felt the presence
Of possibility
Just not hers

Tried connecting
With yours Perfection
And saw an erection with lust not words

Born in withering
Unforgiving
And bad to the last drop;
Brooklyn birds

Fill the weapon
And spin the chamber
And bend the part
And aren't hurt

Chorus x2