Fake My Own Death and Go Platinum

Well you see 
I wanna sell a million records 
But my music sucks 
So what am I to do? 

They say an artist is appreciated after he's dead 
I have no talent but 
I bet that it's still true! 

The lyrics all suck and 
The chords are too funky 
We're on a major label 
'Cuz we're just plain lucky 

We sold 4 albums 
To our own mothers 
We have a few supporters 
But there aren't many others! 

What if I could live 
If they all would think I'm dead 
Oh just what if I could have my 
Cake and eat it too 

I'd be set for life 
No more struggles no more strife 
Let the money do the talking 
I'm a dead man walking! 

Kill myself 
And all our record sales will shoot up 
Like an addict 
Or that poser Emineim 

Make it mystery 
And let them spot me just like Elvis 
It wouldn't matter 
Cause I'd still be dead to them 

I'd simply sit back in 
A house all secluded 
Out in the forest 
Self-sufficient (pool included) 

Let my name take the place of Fred Durst 
I could have it all 
If my label doesn't kill me first 

What if I could live 
If they all would think I'm dead 
Oh just what if I could have my 
Cake and eat it too 

I'd be set for life 
No more struggles no more strife 
Let the money do the talking 
I'm a dead man walking!