I built forty million miles of strip-malls   And I painted the sky with aerosol   Plugged the hole in your pockets with credit cards   And clouded your eyes with sitcoms      I put the "con" in "convenience," and I string you along   Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong   Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong      Owwwww      I make tiny, starving fingers sew your comfy running shoes   And I make more money than any man could ever use   Been called a cool mother fucker, but I'm not that mean   You see I'd gladly leave the dregs of the earth to the meek      Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong   Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong   Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong   Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong      Owwwwww   Whoo      This is the life   This is the life   This is the life   This is the life      This is the life   This is the life   This is the life   For me   For me   For me