(E. King, J. Van Zant)



This song goes out to all the money men



He drives around in a fancy car 

Smokes those long cuban cigars 

He don't know how to play guitar 

He can't sing but still the pretty girls think he's a star



We play music got families to feed 

Ain't good with numbers and he knows we can't read 

If we get a dollar you know he gets three 

It ain't hard to figure out it's as simple as can be 

Don't ask me ask the money man



These boys are livin' in a fantasy land 

I just keep 'em on the road so they can pay the money man 

I'll be long gone before they understand 

My promises are strong like a road made out of sand



I wanna be your money man 

My mortgage is picked up by the band 

I wanna be your money man 

The boys, oh they're sleepin' out in the van



Don't ask me ask the money man 

You boys are livin' in fantasy land 

You signed the dotted line I'm takin' all I can 

Your money's lookin' good in my retirement plan 

That's just the way it is when your playin' in a band



That's my money man down on his knees 

He ain't prayin' but he damn sure ought to be 

He's at a place where money doesn't grow on trees 

And all his prison buddies doin' more than shoot the breeze 

How does it feel no money man 

Not too good 

What did you do with my money man 

Well I a... Well a you know a... 

How does it feel to be a honey man 

Are you sure that your still a man







Aw your dressed up like a little girl 

Just shootin' the breeze down on your knees 

Money man, oh money man