Leona Gom is a Canadian poet and novelist. Born on an isolated farm in northern Alberta, she received her B.Ed. and M.A. from the University of Alberta in Edmonton. She has published six books of poetry and eight novels and has won both the Canadian Authors Association Award for her poetry collection Land of the Peace in 1980 and the Ethel Wilson Fiction Prize for her novel Housebroken in 1986.
She taught for many years at Douglas and Kwantlen Colleges and also at the University of Alberta and U.B.C. For about ten years she edited the award-winning magazine Event. She held writer-in-residencies at U of A, University of Lethbridge, and University of Winnipeg.
Her work has been included in many journals and over fifty anthologies, and five of her books have been translated into other languages. Her novel The Y Chromosome has been optioned for a movie and has been used as a text in both Women's Studies and sociology courses in Canada and the U.S. Her latest novel is The Exclusion Principle (Sumach Press, 2009). Quill & Quire calls it "an entertaining read, in which the quotidian world of marriage and the exotic field of astronomy mesh."
This article is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License, which means that you can copy and modify it as long as the entire work (including additions) remains under this license.
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Low Income
Low Income
Let um feel the beat first
I'm bout to come through your stereo
Should I rhyme or start with the hook?
Start with the hook
To my people who don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's Friday
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
Thank God it's Friday
Do Your mom now you act so berserk
Thank God it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track girl?
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
(I wanna thank my hood)
For makin me a star before I had fast cars
And couldn't tell the difference between Whoppers and caviar
Before the fame
Way before things changed
All I wanted to do was freestyle and get a name
I used to work at the fast food restaurant
For minimum wage
Dreamin I'm on stage
At 17 I left the house
Cause my father was a minister
And I didn't want the Marvin route
What's goin on?
Today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn
MC's in the industry
You wanna tip?
Don't let them pimp you like Goldy
And tell Sony they better have my money
Cause I play wit the Comodores and be like Lionel Richie
Low Income, I stay so hungry that if 50 Cent came to rob me
He'd be part of my charity
(I wanna thank my hood)
To my people cuttin hair in the shops
Thank God it's Friday
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people that don't got no job
Everyday it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track yo?
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies sing
I don't feel
Like cookin you no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)
Well, you don't have
to cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend will
After you leave
(I wanna thank my hood)
For the love of money
I know kids who'll slit your throat
Friday the 13th
Jason wit a trench coat
But you can't scare Suzie
Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was Cadivi
Meanwhile, she's getting her nails done
Crystal clear so they could shine like wit diamonds
It's such a shame what happened last week
Man they found her under the sheets with a letter from the Son of Sam
It said to tell New York I ain't sleepin
You want to be clubbin then you better pack your heat in
And to my man G Swar Rest in Piece
I still poor liquor
1 draw on the cocoa leaf
Inhale, exhale smoke grasses
Polices in the area, but ain't no need to panic
You wit Wyclef you getting in
If not, then we gonna make CNN
(I wanna thank my hood)
To my people who don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's Friday
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
Thank God it's Friday
Do your mom know you act so berserk?
Thank God it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track girl?
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
Yo, to my people cuttin here in the shops
Thank God it's Friday
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people who don't got no job
Everyday it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track yo?
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies sing
I don't feel
Like cookin you no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)
Well, you don't have
to cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend will
After you leave
