I sleep on the pavement, enclavement my only friend,
Bound by enslavement, my hunger won't end,
I don't want your pity,
I live in text city,
I just want a roll of the dice and a bowl of white rice.

The hookers, the hustlers, the lookers, oh what a mix,
Caught in the landslide of dementia and politrix,
They tighten the noose,
They unhitch caboose,
I just need a roll of the dice and a bowl of white rice.

White rice, whoa
White rice, whoa
Someday it might be your mother.
Oh yeah, white rice.

Pan-handle pyros, they profit from misery,
Plebian paradox,
Contemporary slavery,
Plantation picnic, so oxymoronic,
We all need a roll of the...
Soy sauce would be nice.

White rice, whoa
White rice, whoa
I feel like my world's going under,
Oh yeah, whoa
White rice whoa
White rice whoa,
Silence is raging like thunder,
Oh yeah, white rice.

(scat)

"Help," cries the mother whose child knows what hunger is,
Down in the ditches seems nobody cares,
Sweep up the pity
Hog-tie the city.
Contempt is for those... those who lost their compassion,
It grows then it becomes the fashion,
It shows just how much is a bowl of white rice.

White rice, whoa
White rice, whoa
Doctors and lawyers and senators,
Oh yeah, whoa
White rice, whoa
White rice, yeah
Models and actors and singers,
Oh no, whoa.
White rice, whoa
White rice, whoa
White rice, whoa

(scat)

I like it brown.