[Intro]

So you think that money is the root of all evil…

Have you ever asked what is the root of money?

[Verse 1]

Yo, he took me out the shoebox, along with two rocks

He tuck me in a pocket I felt the tip of a new Glock

Walked down the block to the corner

He took me out the pocket and he paid for marijuana

Now I’m rollin’ with his homie I don’t know or understand

No instrument in hand but he got me in a band

Took us to the crib we all sat on the bed

And when he count us up I think we closer to a grand

Man, you seen the way that his face look

He take a picture and put this shit up on facebook

[?] on pictures but they ain’t [?]

And so he put me with a bunch of singles now we in the club stuntin’

He pull us out in front of, front of this girl’s eye

She comin’ closer her hands was rubbin’ her inner thighs

She dancin’ on the pole, he throw me in the air

Feel like I touch the sky, flyin’ without a care

I’m comin’ down, now I land somewhere on her stomach

And then she put me on her skin and she let me touch it

I think I love her but it don’t last

She put me in her [?] and stuffed me in a bag

But when she pulled me out it was a different day

And when I seen her I could barely recognize her face

She had a hoodie on smilin’ in the office of admissions

Hand me to this lady sayin’ "this for my tuition"

[Interlude]

Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist

Unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them

Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another

Must deal by trade and give value for value

[Verse 2]

I sittin’ inside of the envelope, eh yo it’s dark as hell

They put us face to face, Ben Franklin know me well

And Lincoln sittin’ in the front say he can’t see me

George Jefferson, now where’s Weezy?

I felt a finger that was younger than the others

Slowly slide me out the top and he quickly close the cover

He’s told the lady that he late he leavin’ out for class

I wonder cause I didn’t see a book inside his bag

I see he lied to them, the secrets hide in him

He probly robbin’ them cause they already robbin’ him

We leave away from college, I’m still inside his pocket

I hear a man speakin’, preachin’ about a prophet

They put me in a plate and plate and took me to the alter

And count us in the back, the process like the projects

The priest gave us to a party with a lotta tea

They always talkin’ bout freedom and how it used to be

They gave me to this politician and I listen while he say

Cuttin’ funding for the children

And in a hotel room he rolled me up and passed me to his escort

Put me to a nose, did a line he took the next snort

I loosen up and I started thinking

Them dead presidents got more power than the president that’s living

He left me on the table, I’m guessing he forgot

Housekeeper took me put me in a shoebox

[Outro]

Money is not a tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears

Or of the looters who take it from you by force

Money is made possible only by the men who produce

Is this what you consider evil?