Fuck this dinghy bitch, I need a yacht (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
Sick of yard weed, I want some grow room pot (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
Five dollar pocket is all I got (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
I need to be a have, not a have not
Worshipped like a deity among those who know want
Like a banker writing policy, I’ll be fine
I don’t care if it’s blood soaked, if it sold the children drugs
If it put the slave in sex, that’s just fine
It’s a different kind of city with the tent I pitch (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
Too poor to hang from a simple half hitch (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
I got the itch to be rich, the itch to be rich (One foot in the gutter, one in the ditch)
It’s a different kind of city with the tent I pitch
Imagine a rich hippy, writing it can’t buy you love
Whose children never hungered, in winter they wore gloves
Too broke to smoke it ain’t a joke, poverty is rough
Only those who have it all write dumb shit like
There's never enough money, I'm sorry poor people, money won't fix your problems
Silly poor people, money is for rich people
enough
Gimme gimme,
gimme gimme that shit
I need all of that shit