Just.Over.Broke

And the answer still no

I just punched the clock again

I'm wasting time, all this clocking In

I feel by now I should be clocking M's. It's like the gatekeepers, hear Me knocking

But conspire to just block my wins

And fortify the ways I'm coming In, through all the tribulations

I'm focused on my greatness

I wish we would let these 9 to 5 Steady players

They up the production, but we Still make the same paper

We get paid to forget about our Dreams

I ain't with it, can't stop till every Check eight digits

Ninety-seven baby, push the ninety-seven Plymouth