Born in the Hills Beverly in '63
  Only son of a rich mom and dad
  But dad was a jerk and mom did not work, it drove him mad
  When mom and dad died, late last July
  He got the house and the plane
  And now he just laughs and smokes his coke all day
  From New York to Tokyo
  Its all about the dough
  Its the coin, its the cash, its the currency stash
  Its the money that keeps us goin'
  The streets of Brooklyn are riddled with crooks and
  Dope dealers who don't give a fuck
  Its all about hustling and scheming and making a buck
  They rule the block with one hand on their Gloch
  Its the ghetto that keeps 'em in
  But they don't have a chance, its the same circumstance in the end
  He passes the years from atop his John Deere
  Surveying the fields from above
  Its not much to some, but he's happy to do what he loves
  Its been apples and pears, and a hundred state fairs
  Nothing more than a quiet, simple life
  His only regret is he never found time for a wife