Three guys pa** me by all in white t shirts They're in a sixty three super sort and they don't like my looks I'm in the middle of Brooklyn I can't see no escape' They say the south is a bummer But this isn't so great Ain't life a blast So low down middle cla** From the day you're born you know you'll never kiss a** White middle cla** blues Now I'm sitting down to diner there's so much food on your table You can throw away your vegetables you can eat till you're not able And you veins fill with bu*ter and the blood won't flow through them And your kid ods on goof balls and gives the finger to you