| I love everything about money
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| You can be a millionaire and never pay taxes
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| Rust, I got to bust to my destination
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| I woke up late time from other transportations
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| Trains and busses — public adorations so better turn
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| But where I’m going to is a place where it really burns
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| And burns my brain, my job, my occupation
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| Another motherfucking source of frustration
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| 4, 25 $ an hour, leaves my mouth sour
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| Minimum wages like I’m caged in the prison tower
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| Day in and day out another person flips
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| They can’t cope so they create their own economics
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| With an Uzi some ammunition and a flat jacket
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| Stick up kids, wanna be fat like Buddy Hacket
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| And get props, ranks, thanks, power position
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| A piece of paper with a picture of a dead politician
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| So many times I’ve seen people play stupid for money
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| And at the funeral it isn’t funny
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| But nevertheless the world turns, it doesn’t burn
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| Cause money make the world go round is what I always heard
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| That’s when I got that sadly look on my face
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| No matter how fast I run, I always wind up in last place
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| So I just like to would pick myself up an automatic
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| So I can end my fate check without a denim static
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| Got nothing to lose except my head
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| Yo I’m in it to win it and imma spray the town blood red
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| Autroprenorial skills coming all fly
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| And economically it doesn’t matter if somebody die
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| It’s all about getting the dollars and jewel specs
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| So give it up before I put your life in fast checks
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| Yeah I got money coming out my ass
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| Yeah I got money coming out my ass |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Economics '91 , by - Ill Bill. Song from the album The Early Years: Rare Demos '91-'94, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп