Money Game, Pt. 2

(álbum: Demos (Do Not Share), Vol. I - 2020)

Strange times we're living in; panic and hysteria
Poor man learn the rich man don't care for ya
Narcissist mindsets spread like malaria
Sit back and watch the show, America
Britain split through fickle shit, a government of hypocrites
These counterfeit politicians sit in parliament, not adequate (Come on)
Needlessly bleeding resources all dry
Turn a blind eye if it means a pay rise
"Oh, what a shame it would be, I would die"
If Number 10 Downing Street burned in a fire
Only joking, only messing, don't be stressing
I'm a peaceful adolescent, there's no need to be unpleasant
Write my thesis in a rhyme scheme to analyze the brain
While my finger's on the trigger of a money game

Oh rain, rain, rain, rain
A storm, it comes our way
And those who rise through distorted lies
Poisoning the veins
But we like to point the blame, blame, blame, blame
It's easier to blame
But point the mirror at ourselves
We're all part of this old money game
This old money game
This old–

Money is a game and the ladder we climb
Turns a saint into a sinner with his finger in crime
I'll break it down for you motherfuckers line by line
This is business economics in a nursery rhyme
She sells seashells on a seashore
But the value of these shells will fall
Due to the laws of supply and demand
No one wants to buy shells 'cause there's loads on the sand
Step one: you must create a sense of scarcity
Shells will sell much better if the people think they're rare, you see
Bare with me, take as many shells as you can find and hide 'em on an island
Stockpile 'em high until they're rarer than a diamond
Step two: you gotta make the people think that they want 'em
Really want 'em, really fucking want 'em, hit 'em like Bronson
Influencers, product placement, featured prime time entertainment
If you haven't got a shell, then you're just a fucking waste, man
Three: it's monopoly, invest inside some property
Start a corporation, make a logo, do it properly
"Shells must sell", that will be your new philosophy
Swallow all your morals, they're a poor man's quality
Four: expand, expand, expand
Clear forest, make land, fresh blood on hands
Five: why just shells? Why limit yourself?
She sells seashells, sell oil as well
Six: guns, sell stocks, sell diamonds, sell rocks
Sell water to a fish, sell the time to a clock
Seven: press on the gas, take your foot off the brakes
Then run to be the president of the United States
Eight: big smile mate, big wave, that's great
Now the truth is overrated, tell lies out the gate
Nine: Polarise the people, controversy is the game
It don't matter if they hate you if they all say your name
Ten: the world is yours, step out on a stage to a round of applause
You're a liar, a cheat, a devil, a whore, and you sell seashells on the seashore

Rain, rain, rain, rain
A storm, it comes our way
And those who rise through distorted lies
Poisoning the veins
But we like to point the blame, blame, blame, blame
It's easier to blame
But point the mirror at ourselves
We're all part of this old money game
This old money game
This old–