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To: Gamecock

“And the money kept rolllin’ in....”


7 posted on 08/12/2016 12:20:41 PM PDT by dfwgator
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To: dfwgator
“And the money kept rolllin’ in....”


And to think, the Mob had to have some big, dumb paluka with cauliflower ears running around picking up their protection money from businesses in brown paper bags.

The Clintons make the Mob look like blue collar stiffs who have to work for a living.

Can't deduct that from your taxes.

21 posted on 08/12/2016 12:29:33 PM PDT by rdcbn ("There is no means of avoiding a final collapse of a boom brought about by credit expansion. The alt)
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To: dfwgator

“My brothers a poor missionary,
He saves fallen women from sin.
He’ll save you a blonde for five dollars,
My god how the money rolls in!
Rolls in, rolls in,
My god how the money rolls in!”


51 posted on 08/12/2016 2:33:12 PM PDT by Nuocmam
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To: dfwgator

My father makes book on the corner,
My mother makes illicit gin.
My sister sells kisses to sailors,
My God how the money rolls in.

*Chorus*

Rolls in , rolls in,
My God how the money rolls in, rolls in.
Rolls in, rolls in, rolls in,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

My mother’s a bawdy house keeper,
Every night when the evening grows dim.
She hangs out a little red lantern,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

My sister’s a barmaid in Sydney,
For a shilling she’ll strip to the skin.
She’s stripping from morning to midnight,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

My brother’s a poor missionary,
He saves fallen women from sin.
He’ll save you a blonde for a guinea,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

My Grandad sells cheap prophylactics,
And punctures the teats with a pin.
For Grandma gets rich from abortions,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

Uncle Joe is a registered plumber,
His business in holes and in tin.
He’ll plug up your hole for a tanner,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

Aunt Mary makes deals with the milkman,
The mailman and newsboy named Ben.
For a piece of pie and Aunt Mary,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

Uncle Tommy was once in a prison,
Where he was a joy to the men,
Now he bends over for business,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

Aunt Joan keeps a girl’s seminary,
Teaching young girls to begin.
She doesn’t say where they will finish,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

My cousin’s a Harley Street surgeon,
With instruments long, sharp and thin.
He only does one operation,
My God how the money rolls in.

(Chorus)

I’ve lost all me cash on the horses,
I’m sick from the illicit gin.
I’m falling in love with me sister,
My God what a mess I am in.

(Chorus)


65 posted on 08/12/2016 4:43:27 PM PDT by Fresh Wind (Hey now baby, get into my big black car, I just want to show you what my politics are.)
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