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letra de #maculkinproblems - bu hip-hop

[verse 1: jamal]

(let me show you my diana ross right now.)
i do know what
they want from me
oh, the less money i come across
the more problems i see

b-tch, i’m broke. that’s all i gotta say
can’t see me in my room, laundry piled in the way
like quan, it make me feel some type of way
when i only have a couple f-cking dollars to my name
fuel the flame, i got other sh-t on top of that
transfer the fire to my -ss so i run fast
during track, that is. hurting my back that is
make me wanna hunchback while i’m practicin’
but this ain’t notre dame, nor is it a fantasy
mama calls and says to think about the man you’ll be
“you just shoot the sh-t!” least i’m not with it, ma
“well if you clothes smell like it, you’ll get a whooping, son!”
you got money for belts, how come you ain’t helping me?
“if it rains you still get wet with an umbrella, you see
there’s a drought, but don’t be your own enemy
understand yourself and know your tendencies.”
well i rap now! cop that mixtape!
“don’t forget school son, whatever it takes!”
ma all there is to here is the sh-t up on my plate!
when it comes to money, i’m short just like nate

i don’t know what they want from me
i know that it’s not singing cause that verse was real off-key
oh, i can’t afford singing lessons for me
oh, the less money i come across, the more problems i see

[verse 2: sam slamwich]

i’m living in a two-man room
casting for the money like a fisherman’s tool
i’m nothing but a beggar in addition to fool
my edition of proof that i’m a vision of youth
my clothes came from a troupe of indigenous groups
of individual outsiders that’s living on stoops
a chicken of coops
i envision a world where i am nothing but money made out of
nothing but truth, always cerulean blue
“think of the kids,” they said
“open a biz,” they said
i don’t have money for an opening bid
no time to close with my lids, i need to focus my sh-t
into developing dough so i can pay for my trip
i don’t wanna bank on a plastic plastic
“credit or cash?” is the question to ask to someone
much less frugal than i am
my rugel inside, d-mn, be yelling my name like
“why sam?”
rope in the sound of this erroneous clown
who’s telling me to be dumbed down so i can be payed for
i need to be prayed for! my college is eating me and my fundings away
i need some money today

[verse 3: kid one]

i’m always broke as h-ll, no honies, my look has failed
can’t afford new clothes. got bars to fill a jail
only thing is new flows; struggling with this bill, though
cold side o the pillow, move fast, i feel slow
no marketable sk!lls, though
i work way too hard not to play my cards
got two jobs in the works
i’m at worn-out shirts
gotta make my grade. lead to being fed and paid
my work ethic be poetic, never see me with po’ ethics
opportunities, i catch it. no use being pathetic
when you work in retail, let me give you the detail
out here pushing shoes like pusha t pushing bars
gotta prove i’m making moves, i ain’t even push a car
inability to creep up, deadlines on the creep up
can’t afford to slip up, paychecks get ripped up
i can’t afford the time; i can’t afford a rhyme
pushing through the grind
but i ain’t even stressed, no time to catch a breath
when i die i can rest
life is great. gotta go
work’s at eight. off at fo’

- bu hip hop

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