(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