Coup - Underdogs Lyrics
chorus) This is for my folkers who got bills overdue This is for my folkers, um, check one two This is for my folkers who never lived like a hog Me and you, toe to toe, I got love for the underdog *repeat chorus* I raise this glass for the ones who die meaninglessly And the newborns who get fed intravenously Somebody's mom caught a job and a welfare fraud case When she breathe she swear it feels like plastic wrap around her face Lights turned off and its the third month the rent is late Thoughts of being homeless, crying till you hyperventilate Despair permeates the air then sets in your ear The kids play with that one toy they learned how to share Coming home don't never seem to be a celebration Bills they piled up on the coffee table like they're decorations Big ol' spoons of peanut butter, big ass glass of water Makes the hunger subside, save the real food for your daughter You feel like swingin haymakers at a moving truck You feel like laughing so it seems like you don't give a ***** You feel like getting so high you smoke a whole damn crop You feel like crying but you think that you might never stop Homes with no heat stiffen your joints like arthritis If this was fiction, it'd be easier to write this Some folks try to front like they so above you They'd tear this mother*****er up if they really loved you *chorus* There's certain tricks of the trade to try and hault your defeat Like taking tupperware to an "all you can eat" Returning used shit for new saying you lost your receipt And writing four figure checks when your accounts deplete Then all your problems pile up about a mile up Thinkin about a partner you can dial up to help you out this foul stuff Whole family sleepin on a futon while you're clippin coupons Eatin salad tryin to get full off the croutons 'Crosstown, the situation is identical Somebody's getting strangled by the system and its tentacles Misconceptions raise questions to be solved Alot of b-boys are broke, alot of homeless got jobs You can make 8 bones an hour till you pass out and still be assed out Most pyramid schemes don't let you cash out They say this generation makes the harmony pray But crime rises consistent with the povery rate You take the workers and jobs, you're gonna have murders and mobs A gang of preachers screamin sermons over murmurs and sobs Saying pray for a change from the Lord above you They'd tear this mother*****er up if they really loved you *chorus* You like this song cause it relates, it's you in this rhyme We go to stores that only let us in two at a time We live in places where it costs to get your check cashed Arguements about money usually drown out the tec blasts Work six days a week, can't sleep Saturdays though Muscles tremblin like a pager when the battery's low And you just don't know where the years went Although every long shift feels like a year spent And you can write your resume, but it wouldn't even mention All the life lessons learned doing six years of detention Or how you learned the police was just some handicappers On the ground next to broken glass and candy wrappers Now don't accept my collects on the phone Just hit me at the house so I know I ain't alone And we can chop it up about this messed up system Homies that's been killed, how we always gonna miss them It's almost impossible survivin on this fraction Sip a 40 to the brain for the chemical reaction You gotta hustle cause they're tryin to push and shove you I'll tear this mother*****er up since I really love you *chorus
