BU Hip-Hop - #MaCulkinProblems [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Verse 1: Jamal]

(Let me show you my Diana Ross right now.)
I do know what
They want from me
Oh, the less money I come across
The more problems I see

Bitch, I'm broke. That's all I gotta say
Can't see me in my room, laundry piled in the way
Like Quan, it make me feel some type of way
When I only have a couple fucking dollars to my name
Fuel the flame, I got other shit on top of that
Transfer the fire to my ass so I run fast
During track, that is. Hurting my back that is
Make me wanna hunchback while I'm practicin'
But this ain't Notre Dame, nor is it a fantasy
Mama calls and says to think about the man you'll be
"You just shoot the shit!" Least I'm not with it, ma
"Well if you clothes smell like it, you'll get a whooping, son!"
You got money for belts, how come you ain't helping me?
"If it rains you still get wet with an umbrella, you see
There's a drought, but don't be your own enemy
Understand yourself and know your tendencies."
Well I rap now! Cop that mixtape!
"Don't forget school son, whatever it takes!"
Ma all there is to here is the shit up on my plate!
When it comes to money, I'm short just like Nate

I don't know what they want from me
I know that it's not singing cause that verse was real off-key
Oh, I can't afford singing lessons for me
Oh, the less money I come across, the more problems I see


[Verse 2: Sam Slamwich]

I'm living in a two-man room
Casting for the money like a fisherman's tool
I'm nothing but a beggar in addition to fool
My edition of proof that I'm a vision of youth
My clothes came from a troupe of indigenous groups
Of individual outsiders that's living on stoops
A chicken of coops
I envision a world where I am nothing but money made out of
Nothing but truth, always cerulean blue
"Think of the kids," they said
"Open a biz," they said
I don't have money for an opening bid
No time to close with my lids, I need to focus my shit
Into developing dough so I can pay for my trip
I don't wanna bank on a plastic plastic
"Credit or cash?" is the question to ask to someone
Much less frugal than I am
My Rugel inside, damn, be yelling my name like
"Why Sam?"
Rope in the sound of this erroneous clown
Who's telling me to be dumbed down so I can be payed for
I need to be prayed for! My college is eating me and my fundings away
I need some money today


[Verse 3: Kid One]

I'm always broke as hell, no honies, my look has failed
Can't afford new clothes. Got bars to fill a jail
Only thing is new flows; struggling with this bill, though
Cold side o the pillow, move fast, I feel slow
No marketable skills, though
I work way too hard not to play my cards
Got two jobs in the works
I'm at worn-out shirts
Gotta make my grade. Lead to being fed and paid
My work ethic be poetic, never see me with po' ethics
Opportunities, I catch it. No use being pathetic
When you work in retail, let me give you the detail
Out here pushing shoes like Pusha T pushing bars
Gotta prove I'm making moves, I ain't even push a car
Inability to creep up, deadlines on the creep up
Can't afford to slip up, paychecks get ripped up
I can't afford the time; I can't afford a rhyme
Pushing through the grind
But I ain't even stressed, no time to catch a breath
When I die I can rest
Life is great. Gotta go
Work's at eight. Off at fo'