Yes, we live in poverty

We own no mansions, yachts, or diamond rings

We come from southern ancestry

Where life is lived quite differently

We still live in yesteryear

Bash a nigger, bash a queer

It's how we keep away our fears

It's how we bond with our peers

We will lie, cheat, and steal

As long as it will close the deal

Then later on, we'll be on our knees

Asking God to forgive us please

We know that we have elegance

Even though we have no eloquence

And our station in life is on the fence

Do you think maybe, we're a little dense?