Lyrics:

I'm broke, broke as a joke
Thinking 'bout moving back in with my folks
Walked away from my house note
Watched my bank account go up in smoke

I'm in a mess with the IRS,
Still watching my movies on the VHS
God bless
America
I'm a gangsta thanks to ya

I shoulda been a baller, shot caller
But I'm just blue collar
I got my job in Georgia
Tryin' to get a piece of that peach cobbler

Chasing down that paper
Need a money-maker

Spend my life lookin' for a discount
Now I thank God for the handout

I can't afford to live this way
I barely live off what I make

Running round for money
Begging on my knees

Living paycheck to paycheck
To paycheck to paycheck

Get the money
Get the cash

3 sweaters'a coat, I can't keep my heat on
Got nothing eat on
Never heard of vacation
I think they give those away on the radio station

I work my fingers to the bone
No days off, and I ain't comin' home
I got a piece a paper in the mail today
Said I still got a balance that I got to pay

I shoulda been a baller, shot caller
But I'm just blue coller
I got my job in Georgia
Tryin' to get a piece of that peach cobbler

Chasing down that paper
Need a money-maker

I spent my life lookin' for a discount
Now I thank God for the handouts

We'll be ok
Don't you worry baby
We go'n get paid
You can bet your bottom dollar on it

Don't be afraid
'Cause I'll make it rain
It's our lucky day
'Cause I found some change

Oh oh oh oh
I got a paycheck