Zero with a Crown (The New Gloom Child DJ Remix)

[Intro] Yo You know who it is Snozbagged Gloom Child Here we go [Verse 1] Uh, yeah, okay, check the flex, it’s a mess. I got thirty-thousand on the wrist, feeling stressed, I confess. I’m a big bag getter, but the bag is feeling heavy, I’m a sad boy driving in a very fast Chevy. Uh, whip it, flip it, spend it till I’m feeling kinda sick, I bought a diamond-studded watch just to watch the time tick. (Tick-tock, Steve, the clock is getting louder.) (I’m eating lobster tail but it’s tasting like some powder.) I got the Gucci on the socks, I got the Prada on the face, But I’m still the same loser just in a nicer place. My accountant’s getting happy, yeah, he’s doing a dance, While I’m staring at my bank. about to start throwin hands. It’s a "no" from me, dog, even with the platinum card, Turns out buying "happy" is actually really fucking hard. I’m a mogul, I’m a star, I’m a made up sensation, With the emotional depth of a crackhead on probation. [Chorus] Money in the bag, but the bag’s got a hole in the bottom, Springtime pockets, but the heart’s feeling very much like autumn. I’m counting up the stack, one-two, three-four, The more I get the "more," the more I’m looking for the door. (Yeah, it’s a long way down when you’re standing on the mint.) (The gold is in the eye, but the eye has got a squint.) [Guitar Part] [Verse 2]  Stucco turning gold leaf? Nah, it’s turning yellow,  A sovereign in a palace with a "hollow-point" hello.  The comma is a fishhook, snagged in the throat,  I’m drowning in the velvet of a monogrammed boat.  Mama called the struggle a "blessing in the grit,"  Now I’m polished like a mirror and I’m losing my wit.  Look—the digits on the LED are doing acrobatics,  But the dopamine is rigid, feeling cinematic—plastic.  I bought a house for the spirits, gave 'em marble and a view,  Now I’m haunting my own kitchen, asking "who the fuck are you?"  The "you" that had a hunger that a ribeye couldn't kill?  Now I’m overfed and empty—just going through the drills.  (What’s the price of a thought when the silence is loud?)  (Is it ten-twenty-thirty? Did you make your momma proud?)  I’m a king of the gluttony, a merchant of grief,  The more I stack the paper, the more I feel diseased. [Chorus] Money in the bag, but the bag’s got a hole in the bottom, Springtime pockets, but the heart’s feeling very much like autumn. I’m counting up the stack, one-two, three-four, The more I get the "more," the more I’m looking for the door. (Yeah, it’s a long way down when you’re standing on the mint.) (The gold is in the eye, but the eye has got a squint.) [Bridge] He’s looking at the numbers again. Why is he looking at the numbers? They aren't going to hug him back. The ink is black, the blood is red, the soul is dead. Subtract the ego, what’s the remainder? Nothing. Just a zero with a crown on it. [Guitar Solo] [Chorus] Money in the bag, but the bag’s got a hole in the bottom, Springtime pockets, but the heart’s feeling very much like autumn. I’m counting up the stack, one-two, three-four, The more I get the "more," the more I’m looking for the door. (Yeah, it’s a long way down when you’re standing on the mint.) (The gold is in the eye, but the eye has got a squint.) Money in the bag, but the bag’s got a hole in the bottom, Springtime pockets, but the heart’s feeling very much like autumn. I’m counting up the stack, one-two, three-four, The more I get the "more," the more I’m looking for the door. (Yeah, it’s a long way down when you’re standing on the mint.) (The gold is in the eye, but the eye has got a squint.) [Outro] Yeah. One million. Two million. Still me. Still empty.