Sam Slamwich - #MaCulkinProblems lyrics

[Verse 1: Jamal] (Let me show you my Diana Ross right now.) I do know what They want from me Oh, the less money I come across The more problems I see b**h, I'm broke. That's all I gotta say Can't see me in my room, laundry piled in the way Like Quan, it make me feel some type of way When I only have a couple f**ing dollars to my name Fuel the flame, I got other sh** on top of that Transfer the fire to my a** so I run fast During track, that is. Hurting my back that is Make me wanna hunchback while I'm practicin' But this ain't Notre Dame, nor is it a fantasy Mama calls and says to think about the man you'll be "You just shoot the sh**!" Least I'm not with it, ma "Well if you clothes smell like it, you'll get a whooping, son!" You got money for belts, how come you ain't helping me? "If it rains you still get wet with an umbrella, you see There's a drought, but don't be your own enemy Understand yourself and know your tendencies." Well I rap now! Cop that mixtape! "Don't forget school son, whatever it takes!" Ma all there is to here is the sh** up on my plate! When it comes to money, I'm short just like Nate I don't know what they want from me I know that it's not singing cause that verse was real off-key Oh, I can't afford singing lessons for me Oh, the less money I come across, the more problems I see [Verse 2: Sam Slamwich] I'm living in a two-man room Casting for the money like a fisherman's tool I'm nothing but a beggar in addition to fool My edition of proof that I'm a vision of youth My clothes came from a troupe of indigenous groups Of individual outsiders that's living on stoops A chicken of coops I envision a world where I am nothing but money made out of Nothing but truth, always cerulean blue "Think of the kids," they said "Open a biz," they said I don't have money for an opening bid No time to close with my lids, I need to focus my sh** Into developing dough so I can pay for my trip I don't wanna bank on a plastic plastic "Credit or cash?" is the question to ask to someone Much less frugal than I am My Rugel inside, damn, be yelling my name like "Why Sam?" Rope in the sound of this erroneous clown Who's telling me to be dumbed down so I can be payed for I need to be prayed for! My college is eating me and my fundings away I need some money today [Verse 3: Kid One] I'm always broke as hell, no honies, my look has failed Can't afford new clothes. Got bars to fill a jail Only thing is new flows; struggling with this bill, though Cold side o the pillow, move fast, I feel slow No marketable sk**s, though I work way too hard not to play my cards Got two jobs in the works I'm at worn-out shirts Gotta make my grade. Lead to being fed and paid My work ethic be poetic, never see me with po' ethics Opportunities, I catch it. No use being pathetic When you work in retail, let me give you the detail Out here pushing shoes like Pusha T pushing bars Gotta prove I'm making moves, I ain't even push a car Inability to creep up, deadlines on the creep up Can't afford to slip up, paychecks get ripped up I can't afford the time; I can't afford a rhyme Pushing through the grind But I ain't even stressed, no time to catch a breath When I die I can rest Life is great. Gotta go Work's at eight. Off at fo'