Three guys pa** me by all in white t shirts
They're in a sixty three super sort and they don't like my looks
I'm in the middle of Brooklyn I can't see no escape'
They say the south is a bummer
But this isn't so great
Ain't life a blast
So low down middle cla**
From the day you're born you know you'll never kiss a**
White middle cla** blues
Now I'm sitting down to diner there's so much food on your table
You can throw away your vegetables you can eat till you're not able
And you veins fill with bu*ter and the blood won't flow through them
And your kid ods on goof balls and gives the finger to you