| The key to everything, everybody here in America
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| is the money.
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| Some say that it’s the root of all evil;
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| brings wars and other cells of upheaval.
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| Leaves family in the streets with nothing to eat;
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| little baby boys and girls
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| no shoes on their feet;
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| all the men who leave home dying in the war zones
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| and the women do it all they own.
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| It reminds me of the ghettos right here
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| and the hoods that I see,
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| everywhere that I’ve been in the is country.
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| Stop bailing out the banks and give the Franklins to me
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| I guess my piece of the pie ain’t free, can you free.
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| Ooooh
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| Chorus (Indecipherable)
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| Verse 2:
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| He don’t care and she don’t care;
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| they both got brand new clothes to wear
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| and they ain’t worry
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| cuz they don’t know
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| what its like to be left out in the snow
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| The dirt
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| the filth
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| the gutter
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| the grime
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| the pain
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| the strain
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| the hustle
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| the climb
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| the struggle to fight
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| the conflict
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| the crime
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| I don’t bye that line that it’s nature’s design
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| you different,
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| you ugly,
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| you evil
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| you wrong
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| you stupid
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| you dumb
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| your mind ain’t too strong
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| your daddy ain’t from here
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| so you don’t belong
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| and the list goes on and on and on and on…
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| Chorus (Indecipherable) |