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

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

I spent 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

3 sweaters, a coat, can't keep my heat on
I got nothing eat on
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Never heard of vacation
I think they give those away on the radio station

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 collar
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 handout

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

I got a paycheck

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