Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Grand Theft Auto V: The Mighty American Dollar, artist - Dan Bull. Album song Generation Gaming IV, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dan Bull
Song language: English
Grand Theft Auto V: The Mighty American Dollar |
Yeah, my name is Michael, landed and titled |
Think of a crime and it probably was my fault |
But now, I cleaned up my act, call me Lysol |
I used to pull off heists then I got out of the cycle |
I wasn’t stopping 'til I got the bills |
For a property in Rockford Hills |
But now, I rock the mill’s and the mansion |
Looking for the answers at the bottom of a bottle |
As I pop the pills, for reals |
I live a life of luxury |
But trust me, I’m the man it sucks to be |
Look and see, my family’s dysfunctional |
Sometimes, I feel like I really want to punch them all |
My son’s a ball of blubber, about as awful as my daughter |
Or her mother or her mother’s other lover |
Motherfucker |
Suffering a midlife crisis |
But have you seen how ridiculous my wife is? |
You shouldn’t be surprised what the mind of a man does |
To hide from the madness of Amanda’s |
Even my analyst is struggling to handle this |
So, it’s about time I went back to being the protagonist |
Yeah! |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
Yo, they call me Franklin, I’m all about the Benjamins |
I spend on anything that’s got a revving engine in |
I never had a family except my gang and me |
I was educated at the Hard Knock Academy |
But gang-banging was an absolute calamity |
They handcuffed and chucked me in the slammer |
It was agony |
Now, I’m free, being a repo man is my reality |
But on this salary, I can’t afford a calorie |
And as I can’t gather enough food to eat |
From Vespucci Beach, then I might resort to felony |
Felling an enemy or anyone offending me |
Befriending people who inevitably will depend on me |
But if I end up in a feud with Lamar |
I’ll lick off his top like a Cuban cigar |
I’m the dude with the car, a superstar |
In a street fight, I’ll pull off a Hadouken, rah! |
You might find me in the strip club, bruh |
But I didn’t come to get my dick sucked, nah |
I’m a hip-hop star |
Blood? |
Crip? |
Not moi |
I’m the top dog, sit Chop, ha |
It’s like this, it’s like this, look |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
Rah! |
My name is Trevor |
I live inside a trailer in the desert |
Where I blaze the crystal method |
This unhygienic lifestyle only takes a little effort |
But the cash I had, I’ve gone and wasted it, I’m reckless |
I haven’t got a pound to my name |
So, it’s time to get out of the County of Blaine |
I used to fly a plane, now, I just fry my brain |
Howling at the moon, you can assume that I’m insane |
Like my neighbour Ron, I don’t know what page he’s on |
Paranoid conspiracies, I really believe his brain is gone |
Any plan I make, something has to spoil it |
I can’t fit this fuckin' foot down the toilet |
I’ve got a penchant for throttling a pensioner |
Then grabbing a can of petrol and notching up the temperature |
I’ve got a nervous twitch that’s quite violent |
So, I’m doing suicidal stunts in my Y-Fronts |
I fell out with Michael |
We never quite saw eyeball to eyeball |
But now it’s time for us to reunite |
Grab the shotties and the rifles |
And set the town alight in a giant fireball |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
There’s only one philosophy I follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
Yo, the three of us are so grand theft-ing |
The best in the biz, no damn question |
Man, it’s sexy, straddling a jet-ski |
Ramming it at jet-speed |
Get me? |
What you doing in our neck of the woods? |
You best be checking the HUD |
'Cause in a second your blood will be flecking the mud |
When we bust you by the lip |
Take all your money and then customize a whip |
How can we justify this shit? |
We must be kind of sick |
That’s why we keep the piece, that’s the most trusty, by the hip |
So, pull the map out while we pull the strap out |
Pow, pow 'til the po-po go and black out |
Dropping from the chopper then we grab a couple hostages |
We’re hot, dog; |
sausages |
We trade stocks and cribs, take shots at pricks |
Bury their heads in the dirt; |
ostriches |
The unholy trinity in your vicinity |
Sinning with a seriously symbiotic synergy |
We’re the three similarly sinister G’s |
Each sending the cinema screen into the cemetery |
Cynically with no sympathy seen |
So, simmer down and listen to this symphony, please |
To put it simply, police are just some pimply sleazes |
We’ll pimp as we please and so we send them to sleep |
Yes! |
There’s only one philosophy we follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |
There’s only one philosophy we follow |
And that’s the mighty American dollar |