Travie McCoy “Billionaire” By Mark Staubach

I wanna be a billionaire, so fucking bad buy. All of the things. I never had.

I wanna be on the cover of Forbes magazine smiling next to Oprah and the Queen.

Oh, every time I close my eyes. I see my name in shining lights. Yeah, a different city every night. Oh, I swear the world better prepare for when I’m a billionaire. Yeah, I would have a show like Oprah. I will be the holster everyday Christmas your tree.

Your business. I probably bullying Angelina and Brad Pitt, and adopt a bunch of babies. That ain’t never had shit. Give away your pupils babies. Like you let me have this and last but not least squares about any Last. Wish. It’s been a couple months that I’ve been single, so you can call me traffic laws – no, I get it. I probably visit me. Katrina, hit and damn sure do a lot more than FEMA did. Yeah, can’t forget about me stupid everywhere. I go ahead.

I’ll be playing basketball with the president dunking on this delegates and I compliment the mornings political etiquette Tulsa couple million, the edges, for the heck of it, but keep the 522 as it bends completely separate. Yeah, I’ll be in a whole new tax bracket we in recession, but let me take a crack at it. I probably take whatever’s left and just split it up. So everybody that I love to have a couple bucks and not a single tummy around me would know what hungry was eating good, sleeping. Soundly, I know we are.

Have a similar dream. Go in your pocket, pull out. You want to put it in the air and sing. I wanna be a billionaire, so fucking bad. Buy all of the things. I never had. I wanna be on the cover of Forbes magazine smiling next to Oprah and the Queen.

I wanna be a billionaire, so fucking bed.