the troubles

B-but we never really are, no, we never really wanted Anything, but- We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it at the mall (And I barely even know what cufflinks are, but-) We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all at the mall We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all on a car And I hate to be this way, I was taught that it was rude And my mama raised me better, but my brothers raised me too I’m in Turin like Henry, I’m in Baraca’ like him too Got some trouble with consumption, I still struggle with it too We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all at the mall We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all on a car We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all at the mall We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all on a car (We have nothing else to do, we have nothing else to do We have nothing else to—) Two hands in the air for the best ones Two hands down now for the rest of ‘em Already too much on the septum Said, “Slow down, baby, take a rest now” Take a second, take a breath in (My broski cut up the Vespa) Back out the weapon, back out your bredren The last album you dropped was depressin’ Not one sad song on the record Must be the yes-men We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all at the mall We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all on a car We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all at the mall We get money like the Troubles, baby, blow it all on a car