CANDYMAN Lyrics – Sub Urban
I make more
Momma told you to let the rich man win
Ya poor, make more
‘Cause when they finally realize there’s no encore
I don’t know if anybody is sore
The moment’s gone
There’s no paradise
It’s whimsical worlds, they’re charlatans
Chase that bag (And take your haul)
Realize there’s no merry girls
Dressed like a Saxon, made of golds
I make more but (I’m a poor soul)
You don’t know what you know what you don’t
‘Cause that’s the charm
Curiosity looks all the more ***
Just through the door (Oh)
Chase that bag (And take your haul)
Realize there’s no merry girls
Dressed like a Saxon, made of golds
I make more but (I’m a poor soul)
Ooh, yeah, let’s eat the rich
Let’s eat the rich
Ooh, yeah, let’s eat the rich
I heard they taste like chocolate
Ooh, yeah, let’s eat the rich
Let’s eat the rich
Ooh, yeah, let’s eat the rich
I heard they taste like chocolate
Chase that bag (And take your haul)
Realize there’s no merry girls
Dressed like a Saxon, made of golds
I make more but (I’m a poor soul)
It is with the greatest pleasure
That the King and Queen announce the betrothal of their dearly beloved son—