This is a song about "Poverty"

And i open up the door you bring her cranky ass with you

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

It still wouldn't compare to laughing heartily in ghetto poverty

It's difficult to let it goi'm startin' to loose my hair cause i worry

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

I moved you up to hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood

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

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

On top of me the feds, economy's poverty, gotta be the heads,

And that's a better reason to for me to take advantage with sex

To my niggas everywhere who go through harsh poverty,

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

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

A couple pair of lips, i'm smoochin' on ya panty line

And there's no poverty or crime and you're a neighborhood,

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look