(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