This is a song about "Poverty"

With your flashlight, tell me what do you see

Who will free us from the chains of poverty

And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks

They grow up in cycles of poverty and violence,

Fast life like born on wednesday and died on thursday

To my niggas everywhere who go through harsh poverty,

Growin' up in poverty in ghettoes with the caskets closed,

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

I don't shop in the public, ain't finna wait in line

But it’s hard to believe with all this poverty and crime,

Funeral, check my phone, reacting like its new to you

How ironic, leave them in poverty, don't believe? that's true,

Korrupt kats that's jocking me, poverty, possibly a oligarchy economy

I wake up at the slightest peep, and my sheets are 3 feet deepi guess it's hard for you to see

We grew up in poverty, y'all wonder why we talk money,

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family