I can see why people don't spend much time here in the spirit world. It's creepy -- and I'm not even talking about MDDFT. All of them haunted house freaks groaning and shakin' their damn chains. It's a horror show. And now there's some freakin' little damn talking polar bear runnin' around. I had my fill of those damn things back at Marge's.
I'm here for one reason and one reason only. I WANT MY MONEY. I ain't going to heaven without my money. I signed the contract and just cause I'm dead it doesn't mean you don't have to pay me. Hell, the sneaker people owe me money, the Sharpie people owe me money, the Oilers, I mean the Cowboys, owe me money, the NFL owes me money, McNabb owes me money, my agent owes me money, damn old Marge owes me money, even Atown-Liker owes me money. People I don't even know owe me money.
Truman says you don't need no money in heaven. That's B.S. Heaven's like one of them all-inclusive vacations. You don't have to pay for nothin' -- that's if you want to drink cheap beer and well liquor. That's not the way The Player plays. The Player has expensive tastes. The Player drinks Cristal, not Presidente. The Player drives an Escalade, not some damn chariot. The Player needs money to hire a body guard up there -- archangels don't come cheap. The Player needs money for tips. Hell yeah, I'm takin' it with me.
So pay me my money so I can go to heaven! Jesus is waitin' on me. We talked on my cell phone this morning. He says he's got a good seat saved for me at his right hand. That's something he and I have to talk about. He's gonna need to scootch over one and sit at my right hand, but that ain't no biggie.
... Hey that Atown-Liker is dead. He's gotta be around here somewhere. I'm gonna find him and get my damn money!
I'm here for one reason and one reason only. I WANT MY MONEY. I ain't going to heaven without my money. I signed the contract and just cause I'm dead it doesn't mean you don't have to pay me. Hell, the sneaker people owe me money, the Sharpie people owe me money, the Oilers, I mean the Cowboys, owe me money, the NFL owes me money, McNabb owes me money, my agent owes me money, damn old Marge owes me money, even Atown-Liker owes me money. People I don't even know owe me money.
Truman says you don't need no money in heaven. That's B.S. Heaven's like one of them all-inclusive vacations. You don't have to pay for nothin' -- that's if you want to drink cheap beer and well liquor. That's not the way The Player plays. The Player has expensive tastes. The Player drinks Cristal, not Presidente. The Player drives an Escalade, not some damn chariot. The Player needs money to hire a body guard up there -- archangels don't come cheap. The Player needs money for tips. Hell yeah, I'm takin' it with me.
So pay me my money so I can go to heaven! Jesus is waitin' on me. We talked on my cell phone this morning. He says he's got a good seat saved for me at his right hand. That's something he and I have to talk about. He's gonna need to scootch over one and sit at my right hand, but that ain't no biggie.
... Hey that Atown-Liker is dead. He's gotta be around here somewhere. I'm gonna find him and get my damn money!
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