I don't make money,
I drive old cars,
Nobody knows me,
It’s like I'm from plant Mars,
But late at night,
See that's when I write,
Versus on Twitter, and my tablet's like a mic,
The twitterverse are my fans,
I do this for the art,
No money making plans,
But for reals being broke in America is hell,
Can't recite it good, but I learned to write it well,
Some say my pen's sick,
Guess one can accomplish the impossible with just a bic,
Mightier than yo dagger,
Nobody likes a bragger,
Drugs, cars and women, figga, if another ni**a mention swagger,
I'm gonna lose my damn mind,
So I stay on my grind, and try to stay on the page,
Imagine how a brother feel driving a car half his age,
Engine light glowing and wack raps on the radio cause me rage,
Can't afford a habit, and nobody don't know my name,
How can I ever be a player, when can't even pay admission to see the game?
Forget the fortune and fame, I wrote this to set the mood,
Poor folks who can't afford to eat organic healthy food,
Working 80 hour weeks to almost pay my bills,
Should be living large, but a ni**a still eating Ramen noodle meals,
Ole girl's so broke, busted the piggy bank open to barely make change,
Have to choose between gas or preschool tuition, damn its ashamed.
Forget the fortune and fame, my checking account causes major pain,
I feel like my exemption status on the taxes I claim,
Zero, but still covet material thangs,
Cable, internet, clothes and diamond rings,
Add it all that stuff up, man its really insane,
To maintain I borrowed from my 401K,
Credit cards maxed to the limit, my savings is like an ashtray.
Payday's no longer a cause for celebration,
Always a day too late, 2am and I'm pacing,
Trying to figure out which bill to pay first,
So I'm starving and dying of thirst,
Would get me a fifth, but $20 a ni**a dearth.