Grew up poor, still poor but by american standards
We gotta get back to what really matters
Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her
For beating another misinformed poor stoner
People label me as soft, emotional and poor
A pool full of spit, dive in, i'm bout to drool
It's poor whites and poor blacks, still they hate each other,
Shadee doesn’t matter, heart makes the lover
The poor stay poor, only the rich get status
Look, i'm back like niggas on a bus
They got all this money while people are poor
It all goes back to when i dropped outta school
Thinking y'all cant touch this well that's easy with your poor
All the while my mom askin' why i'm truant at school
I represent the desperation of the poor
Ain't no doubt about it, hey girl, baby you cool
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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