Went To The Crossroads to Sell My Soul

contemplatin selling my soul to the red man
just so i can get me and famiy ahead, man
stuck in the mighty grip of debt so much that it pains
everyday affairs, like poverty is pumping in my veins
so fiercely that you wished you could just discard the load
and meet the incarnadine Satan at the crossroads
have a conversation about the struggle, hustle and bustle
he can make those moves, he's got mighty muscle
anyway you can cause a holy man to steer perverse
you can slide a fortune into my moms purse
he said i can do this but at a small cost
where you'll be a soulless fuck and your hope is lost
i said well, im tired of being poor and wishing for prosperity
cause in reality it will never ever come to me
you powerful bastard, you can turn to water to wine too
if you're bad like you say you are, let's see what you can do
so i stepped back, and he branded me with the pitchfork
i looked at him said "what the fuck you do that for"
you said you wanted to have that prosperity you're bitching about
like having a few funky-ass dollars is something you can't do without
i snapped back, like money makes my world boost up
he said no, money makes weaklings like you corrupt
well, what's done is what's done, i gave you the brand
but im letting you know now, that was a dumb demand
walking different as i tread away from the spot of transaction
got that chip off my shoulder, gained some satisfaction
in knowing that i got what i asked for
having that change in my pocket always and forever more
bitches, not women, they all want to holla now
just because i got that almighty dolla now
all it took was a courageous stunt like Evel Knievel
to take my place among the financially chosen people
went from dirt cheap to extensively expensive
seen as thoughtless, once was extensively pensive
like, is this candy bar beyond my means?
now, i'm rocking 300 dollar jeans