MERCH MONEY Lyrics – WOMBAT

[Chorus]
Yeah
I never used to give about the cash till I started making merch money
And to be honest I still couldn’t give a crap, doesn’t matter cause I’m still making merch money
My girlfriend’s car just got smashed up, guess we’ll buy a new one with that merch money
Probably gonna buy a house with that merch money
Merch money, yeah, merch money

[Verse]
Yeah, I’ll be taking off in ten
Got em hooked on every line, I think I baited them again
I wanna be the illest rapper in Australia
But then cop a Mercedes with a Benz and then I’ll race it with my friends
Yeah I’ve been a little lazy, they’re impatient cause I guess I got complacent
Think I made it then I’m making it again
I won’t change out for hater, I ain’t catering to them
The page is running out of space cause I’m an alien, I blame it on the pen
I ain’t famous, I ain’t making lots of bread
f*ck the money they can pay me some respect, man I’m Satan in the flesh
Think I’m waking up, I’m raising up the dead
Making something of myself then I’m making up the rest
Either way I get creative, some will rate me as the best
Some will rate me as a flop, some will rate me as a threat
Some will rate me as a problem, at this rate I could be dead
If you only get one shot I’m aiming for your head
Yeah, ’cause I’m killing the scene
Sometimes I have to pinch myself as if it isn’t a dream
Because I did it myself, spitting sick as a teen
Tryna find a punchline that could fit in the scheme
Then tryna find a flow pattern in the rhythm and beat
It’s so intricate, you couldn’t stick a pin inbetween
I’ll make it history, I’m winning like [?], it hits different
I mean, it hits different when you listen to me

Yeah, back in school kids were picking on me
Yeah the same kids listen to the shit I release
Then hit me up like “Brah, you be killing it G”
As if I wouldn’t remember all of the shit they would speak
As if I wouldn’t remember what they all did to make me pissed off and leave
Now they get jealous of the shit I’ve achieved
I don’t wanna be the king, that’s not fitting for me ’cause I’m the GOAT
You know it hits different, I’ve been living a dream
Yeah, look up ‘Sick Cunt’ in the dictionary
And I’ll bet you’ll see a picture of me
Description, it reads; “Illest lyricist to ever spit on a beat”
End quote, then just rinse and repeat
Rinse and repeat, I-I-I-I ain’t missing a beat
Call me David Blaine, always got a trick up my sleeve
I hiccup and sneeze, it’s so sick I’m like a riddled withered disease
We ain’t the same motherf*cker, I got triple the steez
Yeah, they’re here the beep
Then they’re prolly gonna think I’m tryna write a hit song
I ain’t even trying, still I heard that I’m going viral on TikTok
Really cunt I couldn’t give a shit, dog
Mainly I’ve been pissed off, more pissed off than a mix of Greeley and Mitchos
I got some screws loose so never compare me to Rick Ross
Every box is getting ticked off
And to think they were counting me out but now I’m rich off it
[Chorus]
Yeah
I never used to give about the cash till I started making merch money
And to be honest I still couldn’t give a crap, doesn’t matter cause I’m still making merch money
My girlfriend’s car just got smashed up, guess we’ll buy a new one with that merch money
Probably gonna buy a house with that merch money
Merch money, yeah, merch money

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these lyrics are submitted by OFFCHART3
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Record Label(s): 2021 Wombat Marketed & Distributed by ADA, a division of Warner Music Australia Pty Ltd
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