Green Hunter 1

Cash makes the world go round, spin
Don't I look like money, that's my twin
Gettin' money, like it's going out of style
I keep throwing it up, like it's bile
Got cash all over me, like it's a rash
You better chase that paper, stack that cash

Start it up like the kick-off, I'm the punter

I'm looking for the bucks, like a dear hunter

Lunatic with the paper, money-crazy

I sit back and count it, they call me lazy

Countin' all this money gave me paper cuts

Pockets' on full, fatter than donkey butts

I got eight figures, like I was ice skatin'

That's figure eight's, you know what I'm relatin'

I got bands, not the ones on your wrist

Yellow canary jewels, same color as piss

No manners, go to the bathroom when you pissed

Mad at me 'cause me and your girlfriend kissed?

She's curious, wanna know how money taste

Your chick's gone, like the T.V. show, 'Without-A-Trace'

Just like the problems, money comes with females

I'm bringing in all this paper from street sales
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace