Poor

Bein poor is sleepin on a lumpy futon bed,

Bein poor is knowin where the shelter is,

Watchin out for backstabbers in the slums,

ODin' on anesthetics and a box of tums,

Movin back and forth so constant that my brain won't respond-

And I've become despondent not realizin' I have no atonement,

Went from Citrus Heights to Oakland,

Then did a 360 and landed in Loomis,

But there's somethin' I can't attain,

It's been buzzin' in my brain and it's drivin' me insane,

How did I go from sleepin' on a shitty couch to livin in GB,