Nigga, so high, i gotta modify my schedule
There’s people in the atlanta suburbs who are dirt poor,
So we rhyme for the hurting, poor hard working for,
Wish, that he will be bless me with a few more
Sometimes it ain't what's up, sometimes you play the fool
There's a clear divide of race and class between the rich and poor,
Poor, uneducated whites, they get the blunt of the tricks,
Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips
We ain't poor, ain't middle class, we're in the shade of grey,
Me and my homieskick it like everyday
The poor southern white boy, he's like picasso for sure,
And bring wiz khalifa cause the green look pure
I represent the desperation of the poor
By those that were slow as molasses, take this shit to school
Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues
Ignoring the wise made his brain look like two molecules
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