This is a song about "The poor"

Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring

The middle class feels guilty for their poor, now it's hurting,

So we rhyme for the hurting, poor hard working for,

Another day as i step out the door

It’s me and my nigga there until i’m a millionaire

Say a prayer and hope that the poor can find health care,

Churches searching for the pockets of the poor

I don't need a bunch of jewels to show you i'm cool

It's hard to care about the poor with everything they're feeding ya,

But instead i got a sister, just like me with her mister nada

Are the poor and sick and tired who've been fighting too long,

Throw her slightly to the right, so dyke i'm kinda wrong

You cowardly-hearted, you couldn't make it on your own

And then maybe the poor will survive, then hold the throne,

Let me teach you all the sounds of love

The poor stay poor, only the rich get status