Lyrics
So, apparently, I had this, like, aunt, who passed away
Who was, I guess, like, very, very wealthy
And for some reason, she left everything to me
Like, I'm getting bored spending money
Like, I, I, I spent a billion dollars the other day
And it was actually boring
(Hahaha)
I had a dream I bought a yacht
So, I bought a yacht, then I bought another yacht
Now I have two yachts
I'm never cold or hot, I'm just a guy with two yachts
(Wait, why'd he buy two?)
'Cause I got that Bruce Wayne money
That Lady Crawley loot
Got the Willy Wonka drip in a Burberry suit
You got that Charlie Bucket bank, no capital or rank
So here, take a billion
Or one of my yachts
Charlie Bucket is the, like, the kid who's
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Yeah, that can't even afford a chocolate bar
Bucket Bank, so it's Charlie Bank
Well, there's a duality to it
Charlie Bucket is the guy who ends up getting
Anyways, I don't mean to over-explain
Rip rollin'
Soarin' through the sky (sky)
Flyin' high like a baldie
Help, help
I can't stop dancin' on a loop
Like they're playing Vince Guaraldi
I got racks (got racks)
And that's facts
Take my golden elevator to the top of my stacks
I ain't ever been a debtor
You a loser with no cheddar
I was cookin' up a beat
But then Bruiser made it better (ha!)
What's that?
Whatcha screamin' at me?
Ya breakin' in and out like a burglar with acne
Don't at me, it'll stay unread
Meanwhile R.I.P
You've been typin' on your death bed
Shakin' my head, shakin' my head
You oughta call me Peter the Great
The way I'm makin' my bread, you poor kid
You lookin' like you never been fed
And what's worse?
You have little to no cred, you bonehead
I've got money
I got God money
I got stacks so high
That it ain't even funny
Net worth is infinity
I am the epitome of
Disposable income
I've got money
I got God money
I got stacks so high
That it ain't even funny
Net worth is infinity
I am the epitome of
Disposable income
You in Southwest, back row, middle seat
Oh, no
I got espresso, martinis on a NetJet
Call me Mr. To-Do List, the way I get the
Check, check, check, check, checks
Your year's salary?
I just blew that on some truffle pasta
I ain't even finished
Call me Erewhon Cafe
The way I got the spinach
You can't do nothin'
Need to call for help
Ya back hurt from grabbin' bottles off the bottom shelf
Only wine in my system is the Napa Valley grapes
Take ya girl to Rockefeller
Holdin' hands while we skate
No room in the safe, I deposit what I make
I make so much money
It's confusing to the bank
Park City wit' yo girl on the ski slopes
Shush-shushin'
Makin' squibba-squabba
Shoot us in ya bushes (hahaha)
Just found a cheque in my cushion
It's yo' life savings
Bank statements crazy
My C.P.As need vacations
I should confuse you
I'm not like most (like most, like most)
I am spooky
I pull up in that ghost
Ooh, I've got God money
Ooh, I got stacks so high, yeah, hoo-hoo-hoo
Oh, you won't believe, oh-hoo-hoo, yeah
I got stacks and racks, and racks, and racks, so high
(Hahahaha)
I told you bro!
Wait did I, did I, did I do something?
Writer(s): Caleb Hurst, Bruce Wiegner, Garrett Watts, Andrew Siwicki
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