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Cockney star Dizzee Rascal from the East End of London made this rap version of 'Dirtee Cash.' He has a Cockney accent and talks very fast like Cockneys.
It's about Londoners and those living in the Commuter Belt who are caught and trapped in the rat race (rushing around each day to earn the London Wage... but the higher earnings doesn't always meet the high cost of living - hence the 'rat race',) then living the high life in the glamorous West End of London at the weekend, blowing their pay cheques at the weekend and living in debt (as cab rides, parking spaces, drinks, food, etc, are very expensive in LDN.)
In this city, money doesn't last long, as people can easily blow money in the West End.
The video shows a crowd of people with long noses stuck on their faces dancing around a big bonfire whilst throwing writings about the Jews on the fire, and effigies of Thatcher are shown and a picture of the late Princess Diana (aka 'The Peoples Princess' and 'Queen of Hearts.')
Money talks, (listen!) money talks, (get money!)
Dirty cash I want you, dirty cash I need you, woh-oh,
Money talks, (it don't stop,) money talks, (it don't stop!)
Dirty cash I want you... dirty cash I need you, woh-oh.
Let's Go!
Everybody wants to be famous,
Nobody wants to be nameless, aimless,
People act shameless,
Tryna live like entertainers,
Want a fat crib with the acres...
So they spend money that they ain't made yet,
Got a Benz on tick that they ain't paid yet!
Spend their pay cheque in the West End on the weekend...
Got no money by the end of the weekend.
But they don't care cause their life is a movie,
Starring Louis V - paid for by yours truly!
Truthfully it's a joke - like a bad episode of Hollyoaks,
Can't keep up with the cover notes,
So they got bad credit livin' on direct debit,
In debt - but they still don't get it;-
'Cause they too busy livin' the high life, the night life,
Lovin' the high when livin' it large,
And they all say...
Money talks, mmm-hmm-hmm, money talks! (You don't know!)
Dirty cash I want you, dirty cash I need you, woh-oh.
Money talks, money talks!
Dirty cash I want you, dirty cash I need you, woh-oh.
Let me take you down to London city;-
Where the attitude's bad and the weather is shitty!
Everybody's on a paper chase;-
It's one big rat race,
Everybodys got a screw face,
So many two-face,
Checkin' their high just like their ready to ride,
I'm on the inside looking at the outside,
So it's an accurate reflection.
Citywide, north, east, west and the southside,
Everywhere I go there's a goon on the corner;-
Guns and drugs cause the city's like a sauna,
And it's getting warmer - and out of order,
Tryna put a struggling mother into a mourner.
Mr. Politician, can you tell me the solution?
What's the answer, what's the conclusion?!
Is it an illusion, is it I'm a thug?
I see the younger die because they tryna live large,
And they all say...
I've no excuse .. you just want to use me,
Take me and abuse me,
I got no taboos, I'll make a trade with you,
Do anything you wa-ant me to;-
Money talks, mmm-hmm-hmm, money talks,
Dirty cash I want you, dirty cash I need you, woh-oh,
Money talks, money talks,
Dirty cash I want you, dirty cash I need you, woh-oh.
Now we're living in the days of the credit crunch,
Give me the dough, I'm trying to have a bunch;-
But I can't have raps for lunch!
It's nothing, enough to share, it ain't fair,
I never dreamed that it could be rare.
Who cares? Who's there to make a change?
Everyone's in the club tryna to make it rain,
But not for famine, just for the sake of having,
Fifteen minutes of fame and everywhere's the same.
Again and again, I see the same thing,
Everybody acting like they're plain sailing,
But I see rough seas ahead, maybe a recession -
And then the depression, then whatever profession.
This is my confession, I can't front, I'm in the forefront,
Livin' for money ready to start like a bungee jump,
With no rope, but I ain't tryna see the bottom -
Because that is where I came from, I ain't forgotten.
Money talks...
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