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Rap: Johnny wanna be a big star
Get on stage and play the guitar
Make a little money
Buy a fancy car
Big old house and an alligator
Just to match with them alligator shoes
He's a rich man
So he's no longer singing the blues
He's singing songs
About material things
And platinum rings
And watches that go bling
But diamonds don't bling in the dark
He a star now
But he ain't singing from the heart
Sooner or later
He's just gonna fall apart
'Coz his fans
Can't relate to his new found art
He ain't doing
What he did from the start
And that's putting
In some feeling and thought
He decided to live his life shallow
Passion is love for material
And it's gone
Gone
Going
Gone
Everything gone
Give a damn
Gone be the birds
When they don't want to sing
Gone people
up awkward With their things Gone
You see yourself in the mirror
And you feel safe
'Coz it looks familiar
But you afraid to open up your soul
'Coz you don't really know
Don't really know
Who is the person that's deep within
'Coz you are content
With just being the nieve brown man
And you fail to see that it's trivial
Insignificant
You addicted to material
I've seen your kind before
You're the type
That thinks souls is sold in a store
Packaged up with inscent sticks
With them vegetarian meals
To you that's righteous
You're fiction like books
You need to go out to life and look
'Coz What happens
When they take your material
You already sold your soul and it's
Gone
Going
Gone
Everything gone
Give a damn
Gone be the birds
When they don't want to sing
Gone people
up awkward With their things
Gone
You say that time is money
And money is time
So you got mind in your money
And your money on your mind
But what about that crime
That you did to get paid
And what about that bid
You can't take it to your brain
Why you on about those shoes
You'll wear today
They'll do no good on the bridges
You've walked along the way
All that money
That you got gonna be gone
That gear that you rock gonna be gone
The house up on the hill
Gonna be gone
The gold purse on your grill
Gonna be gone
The ice on your wrist
Gonna be gone
That nice little Miss
Gonna be gone
That whip that you roll
Gonna be gone
And what's worst
Is your soul will be gone
And it's gone
Gone
Going
Gone
Everything gone
Give a damn
Gone be the birds
When they don't want to sing
Gone people
up awkward With their things
Gone
Gone
Gone
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