Rich Man Poor Man

I'm gettin’ rich [Verse 1: Slaine] Hey yo George, you ain’t gotta be poor no more Go ahead and splurge on movies at the porno store Go ahead and buy yourself a new pair of sneakers This motherfucking studio needs a new pair of speakers Turn it up, my apartment is fucked up Look at my furniture I’ve been so broke and hungry that I would’ve murdered ya Just for a coin, just for a bottle or a joint Look at me now, I’ve got so many models on my groin What’s the point? I can only fuck one at a time Maybe two at a time, fuck it, three at a time Strip linguini and prime Get it for free in your mind Imagine the first time you ever see when you’re blind (I can see!) I couldn’t imagine as a have-not having I’m in a bad spot grabbing and I hope it really lasts this time Out of the shitter cause I have worked like a dog I have not been a quitter [Hook x 2: Slaine]] Listen close to every word I utter You can almost hear me rising right out of the gutter, the gutter Rich man, poor man, now I got a sick scam Spit man, spit man, poor man, rich man [Verse 2: Slaine] Money don’t buy you happiness, is that your advice? Thanks It does when you’re broke. Fuck bitches I like banks Even Tyra, I really do admire her But if she was working for me and losing me loot then I would fire her Believe that, put your hands up where I can see that Where’s a paper fiend, where’s the motherfucking greed at? The white turns to green, green turns to white So how many dollar bills we’re gonna earn tonight? The world spins but only money can turn your life around They thought you were ugly before but bitches like you now Like, “Hi. What’s your name?” My name is cocaine They love hip hop and know Slaine It’s simple and so plain Nymphos with no name drop bills with no change It won’t change, my mental’s deranged and so strange I know the real deal, I ain’t no dummy Cause nobody loves you when you’re a nobody with no money [Hook x 2: Slaine] [Verse 3: Slaine] In this life all you’ve got is your balls and your cock Whether you've got on Gucci shoes or have big holes in your socks Bitches hot with their hips, when I roll and I rock Fuck authority and the cops patrolling the block When I was a teen I had trouble controlling the schnapps Now I’m twenty-seven and I pack heat, holding the Glocks I’ve got bloody knuckles from giving kids swollen up knots I’m banned from the clubs but show up to the shows to bust shots And this attitude isn’t the one that paid me dummy But when I knocked your ass out that’s what made me money I talk about it on the record and they say, “He’s funny.” That’s why I’m about to cake off as big as Jay-Z, sonny You can count on Slaine to spit you something crazy, hunny So all the hate and angry looks are all gravy for me From when I started, they said this shit is impossible Now I’m colossal, bet your bottom dollar on me, I got you [Hook x 2: Slaine]