This is a song about "Poverty"

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

A single mother with a problem child, daddy free

To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free

We was dead at our first breath, born into poverty

Four big bottles of water a day, two packs of marlboro reds

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

Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look

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

In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see

We need to fix these streets, people livin’ in the poverty,

Or fuck my enemies bitch, acting bad and getting rich

Lived in the poverty with the robbers, he's like a boxer, bitch,

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

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

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good

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