[Will.i.am] --
Johnny wanna be a big star
Get on stage and play the guitar
Make a little money
Buy a fancy car
Big old house and an alligator
Just to match with them alligator shoes
Hes a rich man so hes no longer singin the blues
Hes singing songs about material things
And platinum rings and watches that go bling
But, diamonds don't bling in the dark
He a star now, but he aint singing from the heart
Sooner or later hes just gonna fall apart
Coz hes fans can't relate to his new found art
He ain't doing what he did from the start
And thats putting in some filling in flaw
He decided to live his life shallow
Passion is love for material
[Jack Johnson] --
And its gone..gone..going..
Gone..everything gone..give a damn..
Gone be the birds when they don't wanna sing..
Gone people..up arkward with their things..
Gone.
[Will.i.am] --
You see yourself in the mirror and ya
Feel safe coz it looks familiar but ya
Afraid to open up your soul coz ya
Don't really know
Don't really know
Who is,
The person thats deep within
Coz your content with just being
The naive brown man and ya
Fail to see that its trivial
Insignificent, you addicted to material
I've seen your kind before
Your the type that thinks souls is sold in a store
Packaged up with insense sticks
With them vegatarian meals
To you thats rightous
You're fiction like books
You need to go out to life and look
Coz..What happens when they take your material and you already sold ya soul
And its..
[Jack Johnson] --
..gone..going..
Gone..everything gone..give a damn..
Gone be the birds when they don't wanna sing..
Gone people..up arkward with their things..
Gone.
[Will.i.am] --
You say that time is money
And money is time
So you got mind in ya money
And ya money on ya mind
But what about..
That crime thatcha did to get paid
And what about..
That bid, you can't take it to your brain
[Jack Johnson] --
What about those shoes you'll wear today
They'll do no good
On the bridges you've walked along the way
[Will.i.am] --
All that money that you got
Gonna be gone
That gear that you rock
Gonna be gone
The house up on the hill
Gonna be gone
The golden purse on your grill
Gonna be gone
The ice on your wrist
Gonna be gone
That nice little miss
Gonna be gone
That whip that you roll
Gonna be gone
And whats worst is your soul'll be gone
[Jack Johnson] --
And its gone..gone..going..
Gone..everything gone..give a damn..
Gone be the birds when they don't wanna sing..
Gone people..up arkward with their things..
Gone.
Writer(s): William Adams, Jack Hody Johnson
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