Him attention but moms, yeah my momma as loyal as any sister would come
No poor family wants to see his son gone in the middle of the day in harlem
The poor are getting sick, i can't wait for a rise in the nation,
She gon have a baby then flee from her education
Im from the side where silly niggas hate or they like you
No girl can take your place and love me like the way you do.
Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that
And i grew up poor with no cash flow in the country, you ain't even know it,
I'm going hard for the days i was poor
Tell mr. hill we ain't trippin, we cool
Bow our heads, say our grace, make it out the hood was amazing grace
I write to be the best not no second place yea my flow will rock the whole place
But we so poor, we got no door,
You see i gotta go to war
I'm tryin' pimp em i'm trying to be that cool
I represent the desperation of the poor
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >