People label me as soft, emotional and poor
Momma said i should reconsider law school
Hey, who dat, who dat? that nigga you been waiting for
It's poor whites and poor blacks, still they hate each other,
I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years
Grew up poor, still poor but by american standards
Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus
The poor stay poor, only the rich get status
She hangs up, and calls a friend
I’m watchin' espnbut when that show end
And she wanted the parts of my friend
Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest
Nothin sweet when i attend, see
Friend after friend left me
You were an amazing best friend
Niggas in the street scared
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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