INTRO]
Massive! (moan)
[INTRO VERSE]
I’m on one, I’m the realest.
This that broke-boy anthem — you know Massive on some real shit. ~
⸻
[VERSE]
I ain’t got no money, I ain’t got no hoes.
I’m sellin’ my booty behind closed doors.
I need paper, man — I’m on a paper chase,
Let a n***a hold a dollar, tired of chasin’, man—
My bank blamin’ me, let me hold a dollar.
My bills ain’t gettin’ paid, I’m behind on the rent.
Checked my bank account… twenty-five cents.
I need like five jobs, and I still won’t make it.
Gotta sell the clothes off my back, and hustle all butt naked.
I want a couple racks I can invest,
Watchin’ these rich trappers got me so obsessed—
I don’t know how to dress, don’t know how to flex,
But I wanna flex— I’m through with havin’ sex.
I’m tryna climb up from the bottom, man, I’m doin’ my best.
⸻
[CHORUS]
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
I’m so broke, I’m so broke, yeah.
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry.
(Oooo oooo oooo ooooo ooooo ooooo)
I’m so broke, I’m so broke, yeah.
[VERSE 2 ]
Man, I’m broke-broke — pockets flatter than my phone case,
Walkin’ past the mall like, “One day… maybe.”
Got a wallet full of air, dreams full of maybes,
Bank hit me with a fee just for lookin’ at my statements.
Ain’t no gas in the tank, I been walkin’ for miles,
Tellin’ folks “I’m tryna exercise,” but I’m lyin’ in style.
I got holes in my socks, holes all in my smile,
Asked the Lord for a blessing — He put me on hold for a while.
My fridge empty like it’s rentin’ out space,
Only thing in the freezer is a leftover taste.
Lights almost off — man, I’m savin’ every trace,
Bill man knockin’ on my door like he runnin’ first place.
Tryna stretch five dollars for a whole damn week,
Promised myself new clothes… but broke don’t let me be chic.
Hit the register hopin’ I don’t hear that lil’ beep,
Cashier lookin’ at me like, “Baby, funds look weak.”
My shoes worn down — they ain’t squeak, they cry,
Every step sound like a sigh askin’ “Why?”
Even my shadow look broke walkin’ by,
Tryna hide behind me like, “We both barely gettin’ by.”
Microwave broke — so I cold-eat dinner,
Tryna budget life like a first-time beginner.
Check my account hopin’ maybe I’m a winner,
Nope — overdraft hit me like a heavyweight sinner.
Tryna keep my hopes up but they slippin’ away,
Tryna dodge late fees like I’m runnin’ 2K.
If broke was a job, I’d be employee of the day —
Been workin’ overtime with no bonus or pay.
[ chorus]
My bank account on E, I’m so hungry(X4)