Waffle House Poem On A Napkin # 3

This is poem #3
From the Waffle House, yo
Just two white boys
Trying to fake the flow

These are our thoughts
This early spring morn'
If we weren't here eatin'
We'd be at home shuckin' corn

Jeff's hair is getting long
He fills his mouth with a wrap
I hope my buddy's paying
'Cause I'm all out of cash

Chase must be mistaken
I've got no funds for dontain'
If we don't fine us some money
The W.H. people won't think we're funny

We'll hit 'em back on the 1st
But for now we best be running out the door
Our hunger and thirst must be met
Even if we are poor

Because when I turn 65
I'm still getting a check
Never worked a day in my life
And I never wore spandex

But that's besides the point
And it's none of your business
Your job is to feed the poor
Or they'll die just like the Eurythmics