(chorus)  This is for my folkers who got bills overdue  This is for my folkers, um, check one two  This is for my folkers who never lived like a hog  Me and you, toe to toe, I got love for the underdog  *repeat chorus*    I raise this glass for the ones who die meaninglessly  And the newborns who get fed intravenously  Somebody's mom caught a job and a welfare fraud case  When she breathe she swear it feels like plastic wrap around her face  Lights turned off and its the third month the rent is late  Thoughts of being homeless, crying till you hyperventilate  Despair permeates the air then sets in your ear  The kids play with that one toy they learned how to share  Coming home don't never seem to be a celebration  Bills they piled up on the coffee table like they're decorations  Big ol' spoons of peanut butter, big ass glass of water  Makes the hunger subside, save the real food for your daughter  You feel like swingin haymakers at a moving truck  You feel like laughing so it seems like you don't give a fuck  You feel like getting so high you smoke a whole damn crop  You feel like crying but you think that you might never stop  Homes with no heat stiffen your joints like arthritis  If this was fiction, it'd be easier to write this  Some folks try to front like they so above you  They'd tear this motherfucker up if they really loved you    *chorus*    There's certain tricks of the trade to try and hault your defeat  Like taking tupperware to an "all you can eat"  Returning used shit for new saying you lost your receipt  And writing four figure checks when your accounts deplete  Then all your problems pile up about a mile up  Thinkin about a partner you can dial up to help you out this foul stuff  Whole family sleepin on a futon while you're clippin coupons  Eatin salad tryin to get full off the croutons  'Crosstown, the situation is identical  Somebody's getting strangled by the system and its tentacles  Misconceptions raise questions to be solved  Alot of b-boys are broke, alot of homeless got jobs  You can make 8 bones an hour till you pass out and still be assed out  Most pyramid schemes don't let you cash out  They say this generation makes the harmony pray  But crime rises consistent with the povery rate  You take the workers and jobs, you're gonna have murders and mobs  A gang of preachers screamin sermons over murmurs and sobs  Saying pray for a change from the Lord above you  They'd tear this motherfucker up if they really loved you    *chorus*    You like this song cause it relates, it's you in this rhyme  We go to stores that only let us in two at a time  We live in places where it costs to get your check cashed  Arguements about money usually drown out the tec blasts  Work six days a week, can't sleep Saturdays though  Muscles tremblin like a pager when the battery's low  And you just don't know where the years went  Although every long shift feels like a year spent  And you can write your resume, but it wouldn't even mention  All the life lessons learned doing six years of detention  Or how you learned the police was just some handicappers  On the ground next to broken glass and candy wrappers  Now don't accept my collects on the phone  Just hit me at the house so I know I ain't alone  And we can chop it up about this messed up system  Homies that's been killed, how we always gonna miss them  It's almost impossible survivin on this fraction  Sip a 40 to the brain for the chemical reaction  You gotta hustle cause they're tryin to push and shove you  I'll tear this motherfucker up since I really love you    *chorus*