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Song title:
Wyclef Jean - Low Income
Edit By:
216.73.217.165
Intro: Let um feel the beat first Im bout to come through your stereo Should my rhyme start with the hook Start with the hook To my people who dont wanna go to work Thank God its friday Cover me she bout to put up her skirt Thank God its friday Do your mom now you act so berserk Thank God its friday Whats 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 cars And couldnt tell the difference between whoppers and caviar Before the fame Way before things changed All I wanted to do was freestyle and get a name I used to work at the fast food restaurant For minimum wage Dreamin Im on stage At 17 I left the house Cause my father was a minister And I didnt want the marvin route Whats goin on? Today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn Mcs in the industry You wanna tip? Dont let them pimp you like goldy And tell sony they better have my money Cause I play wit the comodores and be like lionel richie Low income, I stay so hungry that if 50 cent came to rob me Hed be part of my charity (I wanna thank my hood) To my people cuttin here in the shops Thank God its friday To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops Yo, its friday To my people that dont got no job Everyday its friday Whats the track, whats the track yo? She dont wanna, she dont wanna work on monday All the ladies sing Ladies: I dont feel Like cookin you no breakfast This mornin (wyclef: all my hoodlums say) Guys: You dont have To cook me breakfast Cause your girlfriend will After you leave (I wanna thank my hood) Verse 2: For the love of money I know kids wholl slit your throat Friday the 13th Jason wit a trench coat But you cant scare suzie Cause her man got so many uzis youd think he was cadivi Meanwhile, shes getting her nails done Crystal clear so they could shine like wit diamonds Its such a shame what happened last week Man they found her under the sheets with a letter from the son of sam It said to tell new york I aint sleepin You want to be clubbin then you better pack your heat in And to my man g swar rest in piece I still poor liquor 1 draw on the cocoa leaf Inhale, exhale smoke grasses Polices in the area, but aint no need to panic You wit wyclef you getting in If not, then we gonna make cnn (I wanna thank my hood) To my people who dont wanna go to work Thank God its friday Cover me she bout to put up her skirt Thank God its friday Do your mom know you act so berserk? Thank God its friday Whats the track, whats the track girl? She dont wanna she dont wanna work on monday Yo, to my people cuttin here in the shops Thank God its friday To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops Yo, its friday To my people who dont got no job Everyday its firday Whats the track, whats the track yo? She dont wanna she dont wanna work on monday All the ladies sing Ladies: I dont feel Like cookin you no breakfast This mornin (wyclef: all my hoodlums say) Guys: You dont have To cook me breakfast Cause your girlfriend will After you leave Guitar solo (daddy, play that guitar)
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