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 dope
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—