Low Income (feat. Beast & 718 Crew)

Intro:
 Let um feel the beat first
 I'm bout to come through your stereo
 Should my rhyme start with the hook
 Start with the hook
 To my people who don't wanna go to work
 Thank God it's Friday
 Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
 Thank God it's Friday
 Do Your mom now you act so berserk
 Thank God it's Friday
 What's the track, what's the track girl?
 She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
 (I wanna thank my hood)
 Verse 1:
 For makin me a star before I had fast cars
 And couldn't 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 I'm on stage
 At 17 I left the house
 Cause my father was a minister
 And I didn't want the Marvin route
 What's goin on?
 Today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn
 MC's in the industry
 You wanna tip?
 Don't 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
 He'd be part of my charity
 (I wanna thank my hood)
 To my people cuttin here in the shops
 Thank God it's Friday
 To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
 Yo, it's Friday
 To my people that don't got no job
 Everyday it's Friday
 What's the track, what's the track yo?
 She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
 All the Ladies sing
 Ladies:
 I don't feel
 Like cookin you no breakfast
 This mornin
 (Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)
 Guys:
 You don't 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 who'll slit your throat
 Friday the 13th
 Jason wit a trench coat
 But you can't scare Suzie
 Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was Cadivi
 Meanwhile, she's getting her nails done
 Crystal clear so they could shine like wit diamonds
 It's 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 ain't 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 ain't 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 don't wanna go to work
 Thank God it's Friday
 Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
 Thank God it's Friday
 Do your mom know you act so berserk?
 Thank God it's Friday
 What's the track, what's the track girl?
 She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
 Yo, to my people cuttin here in the shops
 Thank God it's Friday
 To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
 Yo, it's Friday
 To my people who don't got no job
 Everyday it's Firday
 What's the track, what's the track yo?
 She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
 All the Ladies sing
 Ladies:
 I don't feel
 Like cookin you no breakfast
 This mornin
 (Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)
 Guys:
 You don't have
 To cook me breakfast
 Cause your girlfriend will
 After you leave
 Guitar Solo
 (Daddy, play that guitar)