Accountant Rap Lyrics – Sam O’Nella
Singer: Sam O’Nella
Title: Accountant Rap
They say the modern life is as hard as can be
Growin’ up in the Bronx, I’d be inclined to agree
But I got cash for weeks, I ain’t buried in debt
‘Cause I’m the pimpinest accountant that you ever met
The man, the myth, the ledger, as I’m known on the street
I got math in my head and thirty hoes at my feet
I roll out in a Prius with some doped out rims
I’m savin’ up on MPG while I’m gettin’ some trim
I can empty a gat while fillin’ out your 1040
I can enter your data while I’m bangin’ your shawty
‘Cause I’m a master of skills, both hood and arithmetics
If you need a calculator then you’re f#ckin’ pathetic
Now I don’t mean to provoke, I don’t mean to curse
But like my portfolio, I keep my language diverse
I got a sour face, ’cause my tongue is so acidic
I got Jehovah’s grace, who’dve guessed I was hasidic?
The art of day trading’s like a keyboard to my eyes
‘Cause whenever there’s a shift, I can capitalize
What you make in your life, I handle more in a day
All you do is sit and age like you 401K
My wife is forty nine and she’s only getting bigger
She’s called ‘The Forty Niner’ cause she’s a gold digger
Of course I got a prenup, I can’t stand to be around her
Got the b#tches linin’ up, that’s why they call me a bean counter
I get ’em hot in seconds like a key to the ignition
Yes, I give pencil pusher a whole new definition
But I’m keepin’ it low, I got no need to holler
‘Cause I got more flow than the American dollar
Bet you think you’re renowned, like you can imitate
b#tch, I’ll bring the house down like it was 2008
This ain’t insurance fraud, it’s a natural burn
Yes, every firm is awed by my rate of return
‘Cause I got more fire than the Vietnam war
I got you BPM higher than your credit score
Make you blood spike like it’s a volatile market
Hold this joint venture like I got my lighter to spark it
Give me your best, and watch how quickly I outclass it
You better clench, boy, or you might liquidate your assets
I got finance and fame, keepin’ tracks while I make ’em
I own the rap game, keepin’ records while I break ’em
So you best drop your act or you’re gonna need a suture
Better take your mask off or I’ll mortgage you future
You’re mathematically worse, that’s why you’ll never amount
Yes, I’m the only G for which you’ll never account
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Lyrics Sam O’Nella – Accountant Rap
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