This is a song about "Poverty"

‘bout that money probly like a fucking robbery

All we got now is crime, death, sickness, and poverty,

It ain't nothing to me, i’m who they coming to see

We was dead at our first breath, born into poverty

You just don't like what i'm doing, the lyrics twitter my image

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

To packin' up and leavin' notes, and gettin' ghost

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

Yeah got to the club early just to get in free

To my niggas everywhere who go through harsh poverty,

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

Drug dealers live in poverty in gutters with their mothers,

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

It’s ironic how i drop some dough when i got them homer simpsons, look

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