Wyclef Jean - Low Income Lyrics
Intro:Let um feel the beat firstIm bout to come through your stereoShould my rhyme start with the hookStart with the hookTo my people who dont wanna go to workThank God its fridayCover me she bout to put up her skirtThank God its fridayDo your mom now you act so berserkThank God its fridayWhats the track, whats the track girl?She dont wanna, she dont wanna work on monday(I wanna thank my hood)Verse 1:For makin me a star before I had fast carsAnd couldnt tell the difference between whoppers and caviarBefore the fameWay before things changedAll I wanted to do was freestyle and get a nameI used to work at the fast food restaurantFor minimum wageDreamin Im on stageAt 17 I left the houseCause my father was a ministerAnd I didnt want the marvin routeWhats goin on?Today to sell a song you need a video with soft pornMcs in the industryYou wanna tip?Dont let them pimp you like goldyAnd tell sony they better have my moneyCause I play wit the comodores and be like lionel richieLow income, I stay so hungry that if 50 cent came to rob meHed be part of my charity(I wanna thank my hood)To my people cuttin here in the shopsThank God its fridayTo the thugs sweatin up in the chop shopsYo, its fridayTo my people that dont got no jobEveryday its fridayWhats the track, whats the track yo?She dont wanna, she dont wanna work on mondayAll the ladies singLadies:I dont feelLike cookin you no breakfastThis mornin(wyclef: all my hoodlums say)Guys:You dont haveTo cook me breakfastCause your girlfriend willAfter you leave(I wanna thank my hood)Verse 2:For the love of moneyI know kids wholl slit your throatFriday the 13thJason wit a trench coatBut you cant scare suzieCause her man got so many uzis youd think he was cadiviMeanwhile, shes getting her nails doneCrystal clear so they could shine like wit diamondsIts such a shame what happened last weekMan they found her under the sheets with a letter from the son of samIt said to tell new york I aint sleepinYou want to be clubbin then you better pack your heat inAnd to my man g swar rest in pieceI still poor liquor1 draw on the cocoa leafInhale, exhale smoke grassesPolices in the area, but aint no need to panicYou wit wyclef you getting inIf not, then we gonna make cnn(I wanna thank my hood)To my people who dont wanna go to workThank God its fridayCover me she bout to put up her skirtThank God its fridayDo your mom know you act so berserk?Thank God its fridayWhats the track, whats the track girl?She dont wanna she dont wanna work on mondayYo, to my people cuttin here in the shopsThank God its fridayTo the thugs sweatin up in the chop shopsYo, its fridayTo my people who dont got no jobEveryday its firdayWhats the track, whats the track yo?She dont wanna she dont wanna work on mondayAll the ladies singLadies:I dont feelLike cookin you no breakfastThis mornin(wyclef: all my hoodlums say)Guys:You dont haveTo cook me breakfastCause your girlfriend willAfter you leaveGuitar solo(daddy, play that guitar)
