I need the green.
Umm... Not that kind of green your thinking about.
I mean the kind you need.
The type you earn, want, and work for.
The type that makes you sweat,
Like a fat man running lap.
As I think of money growing from trees,
I think to myself that is nothing but a dream.
The type of money you survive off.
The type of money you can never have enough.
The kind that has no wrinkles,
And with that fresh smell.
The type that sticks with the rest.
That you have to lick your fingers,
To separate them.
The type you blow and make it rain.
I wish I had more money coming my way.
I need more stacks of money.
That I would buy many bunnies and honey?!
Ha that’s funny!