J Dilla
Basic Poverty
[Verse 1]
Play a guitar jam on the sidewalk next to the street
Have a bucket of pathetic coins and dollars by your feet
The true hustle is to overcome the status of deadbeat
An entire day can go by, you earn nothing but a true sense of defeat
Scraping the floors for more points to your score, the prize is something to eat
After touching the ground so long, you have cold sores, and treating that's a chore
And once you're cured, you move spots, now you're at a corner with a store
You try your best to get hired, but they're expressing deplore for your core
And that's pretty called for, you couldn't even show up in socks
This unclean screen you view your life in could need a trip to a detox

[Verse 2]
You spend a couple months trying to afford tickets for the lottery
One day you look at your ticket, your eyes become watery
You've become the lucky winner, now you've advanced to basic poverty
You've got a roof over your head, but do you spend that money wisely?
In this case, you don't, you buy your main fuel and tell others "don't bother me"
Your neighbors write a noise complaint over that sound-system you bought
You refuse to move, you leave an excuse, when the cops came over, you fought
You're charged with abuse, you try to accuse the complainers of setting you up
You're put on the news, you pretend to confuse when you fail the test with the cup
You've misused your luck, you're stuck in the fuck
If I asked are you proud, would you say "Yup"?