BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Unnamed #3
- [Hook]
- Taxes climb, my check runs dry
- Pay the rent, no space to rise
- Still I grind, my hope won’t die
- Middle ground, we burn inside
- Pay the rent, no space to rise
- Still I grind, my hope won’t die
- The Mid Class
- [Verse 1]
- Many times they ignore us, we ain’t lived the good life
- We ain’t lived the bad life, I know slums, drugs, schools, and ice
- I got street, I got eyes, I got fights, and sometimes I got guide
- The block’s shit, the poor nights, that rich bitch just ain’t mine
- The truth is, maybe we all overlooked
- Minimized to just “homies,” pushed aside in the books
- So you know what’s up, you know ’em, food, ice, weed, and an OD
- It’s funny when you’re stuck between crime and school shit
- I’m not a G, not even a gentleman, look at this
- I’m the mid class, now look at this, uh
- [Hook]
- Taxes climb, my check runs dry
- Pay the rent, no space to rise
- Still I grind, my hope won’t die
- Middle ground, we burn inside
- Pay the rent, no space to rise
- Still I grind, my hope won’t die
- The Mid Class
- [Verse 2]
- In my childhood, I spent my time from hood to hood
- Wild, I moved with friends, a bunch of fools with no good
- ’Til I was ten, I almost got stabbed to death
- ’Cause I messed with the wrong debts, that was the street’s test
- See, I thought problems were great, those days I could rest in a grave
- We ain’t thugs, but bother me the way they test my name
- The type of shit I’m gonna tell my great sons in my greatest songs
- Maybe exaggerated, I was ten, they pulled a knife, so I just ran
- And while the
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