Let us scream & fight

over $40.

Scream & holla’

at the top of our lungs.

So the neighbors can hear us.

We look crazy to them

but we don’t give a f*ck.

Because money matters that much.

So much that we’ll take each other’s lives

over a minimum wage check.

Let’s all get knives.

We’re defending our ways, yet

they are not reasonable.

These feelings aren’t seasonal.

We fight every day.

War with each other

because we cannot pay

each other.

Let’s lay

each other out.

Let’s pout

when we’re near,

because we fear

being broke.

We’re poor so we lose all hope.

We can’t be rich in love

because we come at each other

with hate.

We debate

like people love.

We fight 

like people hug.

This is regular for us.

What’s normal?

What’s love?

We are so South Memphis.

My dad walks with a limp. It’s

because of the war in the Middle East
plus

The war in the streets.

PTSD,

no war on poverty.

We don’t have fathers. We

can’t afford to keep our dads.

Yes us poor kids never had

a father

because he’s too broke to stay

or he’s working all day

to keep a roof over our heads.

Or he caught lead

because he was selling drugs

just so his kids aren’t bugged

by the IRS.

Hell yeah he bled

out in the streets,

so the kids aren’t beat

down by the government.

We’re not lovin’ it,

this po’ folk life.

It’s not right.

We fight

Because we don’t have $1 

always in our pocket.

We need to stop it.

This is what they want.