Slaine - Rich Man Poor Man lyrics

I'm gettin’ rich

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

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

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

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

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

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