Warn a Brotha - The White Mandingos, Murs

I sent my demo to the demons up at Warner Brothers

Now they say they wanna sign me — lyin motherfuckers

I know I’m gettin got, but shit I need a start

I’ll renegotiate, once I hit the charts

But now I kick back, and enjoy the ride

Spend my advance, and swallow my pride

I could still be living at home

But instead I’m fucking bad bitches living on my own

He told me sign on the line with my life

He told me that I’d had the time of my life

Hey yo, I never met this man in my life

But holy SHIT!

Hot damn, he was right!

I make big money, I drive big cars

These crackers never seen a nigga play the guitar

We selling out shows, when the group perform

They treat black rock bands like unicorns

Now I’m doing porn, but not professionally

And every city got the finest chick blessing me

And what’s the recipe?

Just do you

FUCK The Rolling Stones, and FUCK U2

It happens so fast, that I can’t believe it

Between the pills and the lean, I still think I’m dreaming

I meet idols, people I looked up to

Some are assholes, some are fucking cool

I’m just another dude who lived the dream and made it big

Now everybody wants to party with the famous kids

Now I’m standing on tables in the V.I.P

I think I’m 2Pac, I think I’m B.I.G

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (Cash!)

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money (CRASH!)

So it’s like you on tour, everything is beautiful

You living this dream, it’s, nothing like you ever done (FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)

Or you’re seein shit you never seen before

And you’re kinda insulated in this bubble

Of this repetitive cycle where you wake up, do the same songs

For the same crowd of people in a different city (FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)

But it’s the same shit everyday, then all of the sudden

The tour’s over, and you’re back home

And you’re just trying to go back to be the nigga you was before

And your homies are like, «Man.

(FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)»

(FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)

Back in the hood, fresh off tour

I’m with my boys and we’re walking to the corner store

Fuck is everybody asking me for money for?

So I give a little, but they ask for more

Yeah I’ll sign that, yeah I’ll take a flick

But some of you motherfuckers really think you’re slick

You ain’t getting over, I ain’t a sucka nigga

My big homey tried to warn me 'bout you fuck niggas

I’m 'bout my real homies, who woulda stuck with me

Now they wanna get paid to roll to the club with me

Cause I’m getting money, ain’t that a bitch

Y’all ain’t getting nothing — (FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)

We grew up together, on the same shit

Yeah I’m getting money, but I ain’t rich

Even if I was, man I’d never switch

Y’all ain’t getting nothing — (FUCK — THAT — SHIT!)