I come from a place where just living is hard to do
You’re walking down the street worried about someone busting their tool
And that stuff on your plate, that’s hardly food
Starting fights for pride, like what are you talking dude
Yes my skin is white, but I know struggle just like you
Turning a dime into a dollar just to catch the bus to school
At six years old, in the freezing cold
Wearing the same damn coat, through the rain and snow

Dad didn’t make much, Mom wasn’t working
Begging my friends for food, so my stomach will stop hurting
Licking plates clean after dinner
No vacuum so we had to use a broom
Sleeping in a dresser drawer; there wasn’t enough room
I’ve been homeless, I’ve been shot at
But I made it out without the lottery or fame
It’s not the same struggle as you but its struggle all the same