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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Steve Miller Band
Vocals
Dicky Thompson
Organ
Gerald Johnson
Bass
John King
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Charles Calhoun
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jay Ranellucci
Recording Engineer
Gene Hicks
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Steve Miller Band
Producer
Lyrics
[Intro]
"Your Cash Ain’t Nothin’ But Trash" (Take 1)
Here we go
Yeah, you may have heart about the gangster of love and the space cowboy
But I'm gonna whip a cat on you right now
Who's had more trouble, trials and tribulations
One, two, three, hey
Yeah, it's alright (Aw, look out, man, look out)
A-lookie here (Hey)
[Verse 1]
I was walking down the main track one night
I met a fine chick, she was built just right
She stopped when I flashed my roll
I told her she could have all of my gold
She turned around and with a frown
She said, "This ain't no circus and I don't need a clown"
[Chorus]
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
And there ain't no need in your hanging around
[Verse 2]
Oh, just to make a hit with a-that chick
I tried to get a Cadillac right quick
The man at the place, he looked so strange
Had nine hundred bucks and some change
We disagreed, I tried to plead
Well, he said, "I ain't a chicken and I don't need your feed"
[Chorus]
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Well, baby, you're crawling way past your speed, yeah
[Bridge]
Alright
I'ma play my guitar right now (Hey, man, what'd you say?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Just keep on rollin', y'all
You better believe it, baby
[Instrumental]
A-lookie here
[Verse 3]
I was walking into town in my white bucks
A man with a gun, he said a-hands up
I tried to get away, but too slow
He got me and took all of my dough
I heard him shout as he cut out
"Well, you ain't lost nothing, what you crying about?"
[Chorus]
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
And he took my watch and I passed out
[Verse 4]
I woke up in the arms of a big cop
Police station, next stop (What's the trouble here, man? What's the trouble, huh?)
The judge swung his fist down, plunk-plunk
A twenty dollar fine cause you're drunk
Dig up the dough and you can go
All I had was a buffalo
[Chorus]
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
Your cash ain't nothing but trash
But I'm sure going to get me some more
Written by: Charles Calhoun