Challenger #1: The Chozen 1
Ok The Chozen 1...Poverty...Lets go!

I remember back in them days when we was barely able to manage/
Aunt Jamima and Wonder bread made the syrup sandwhich/
Keepin our head above water but constantly swallowin/
Electricity got cut off and the gas was followin/
Cold nights draft in the house hard to keep them candles lit/
At school pullin our shoes up so our pants would fit/
Tryin to make our pants seem longer/
But one thing taught to us what didn't kill us would fa sho only make us stronger/
My heart goes out to the homeless and hungry/
Government would rather fight then help and they claim they're defendin our country/
They treat us like monkeys, give us a treat every once in a while but they got us wrapped in ourselves like mummys/
They playin us for dummys, off that materialistic bullsh*^/
They make you come out wit ya wallet real quick/
What happened to the value of a dollar/
Back when you had to swallow ya pride and either laugh, cry or holla/
Usin an alarm clock for a stereo/
Didn't have milk and the water taste bad so we ate dry cerial/
That soul music that make you tap ya feet/
And if ya had a silver spoon you'd melt it, try to make a chain and sale it to eat.

Rhyme by The Chozen 1,
Copyright 2003 All rights reserved.

Challenger #2: Count
Ok Count...Poverty...Lets go!

poverty is what goes on in a lower class house
when u gotta resort ta stealing sh#* cuz all your funds are tapped out
when it aint worth the pain any more, for every dollar u strive for
when u so fed up with working dead end jobs.. u'd rather die poor and
u walk by stores and see shit u like but cant have so jealousy takes
over cuz its what every other man has just seeing that Escalade being
driven by a spoiled teen ager makes u wonder how life can depend on
pieces of green paper cuz the only green you seen is that stuff you
need most cuz the only time you keep hope, is when your gone off that
weed smoke depending on that cess like a broken leg needs a crutch
but you too poor to even afford a f@#*in' match ta light one up
and people tell you lifes tough, still u aint complainin much
cuz u seen people worse than u and there faces say enough
and you know that aint a pretty way ta live.. a single mother with four kids
thinking it woulda bin a different story if she coulda only afforded
abor-tions but thats all in the past to her, she just wanna find her
babies father too bad no man wants ta be the dad of a needy hood rats
daughter thats poverty at its greatest when u cant heal your kids pain
so momma hustling on the corner selling fake rocks a cocaine
its the only way she maintains, cuz all the kids gotta eat
children day dreamin' bout livin' in a home where stale bread's not a treat
yet they still have enough optimism to thank god they have a place ta sleep
believe me they the ones who count there blessings insteada sheep in a
world where nothings cheap.. its crazy we all on a constant paper
chase, just tryna see that spinach just think, while people digging
through trash for food, we throw away what
we cant finish

Rhyme by Count,
Copyright 2003 All rights reserved.

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