(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.