Should Have Dug Deeper

Hey Digger
How you doing?
How are those fingers?
Getting weighed those
By those nice rings

You see my fingers?
I can't at all
I just keep pilin' 'em on
All the weight I can handle
And I can handle more than you
A-pa-rent-ly

I guess one of us
Quit looking
When she saw the first face
Of a dead President
Regardless of the fact
That it might have been Andrew Johnson
Rather than Heavy Ben

And now one of us
Is sitting inside her car
That ain't even paid for
That ain't even in her name
That she can only drive
When her man carpools to work
And the other one's ride
Is getting valet parked
As...we...speak

I guess that means
One of us should have dug deep
Wouldn't you say?

If you're going to be a gold-digger
I don't know why you'd settle for silver
That just don't make sense at all

First time you stuck your head in the sand
You popped out with a penny
And spent it in a hot sec
While I kept looking
And when I popped up

From I finally came up for air
I had a Mustang in my hand, sweetie
I had a goddammed blank check
And in my other hand?
A pen

So if you want to brag
You go ahead and do it
Wear those flashy rings around
Like I don't know
That half of 'em you got
Off a flea market fold-up table
And they'd crack like a tic tac
If they fell off your stubby ring ding fingers

I'll just wait for my car to be parked
And I'll stroll on by you
Just thinking to myself--

My, for a gold-digger
She sure doesn't shine