m on my way To a better place [Chorus] I'm a poor man Walking down the road The straight and narrow is leading me to gold So I'm a rich man walking
I'm on my way To a better place I'm a poor man, walking down the road The straight and narrow is leading me to gold So I'm a rich man, walking down
Traduzione: Plus One. Poor Man.
to get and lets get going Today is the day man Nigga this is it Your life and your word aint shit, spit this real as it get plus, theres no one you
struggilin Smile when Your in jail Smile When your dead broke Smile And the rents due Smile You ain't got friends now Smile And no one knows you Never
Louis is Tony Soprano No two, heffers with blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr Blow bolo get fooled around the clock. [Ali] Up next, we got two live MC's My man
Ali Vegas... like you just think you down with a nigga, came up with a nigga, flamed gats with a nigga, then all of a sudden that nigga want power, man
can tell by 21 you'll be bald I'm off the wall, with all the off the head shit that I make up You need one haircut, plus about 33 shape ups So go ahead
I'ma be so cool But for now I got cheap shoes, so I keep losing Girls give no love to a poor man It's a prison, the clock is warden Man it won't get no
to hold me I follow rules, through the knowledge, swallow jewels A form of teaching, from the streets never taught in school You caught you lose, a wise man
Hoe] Listen Hon, I mean aaaaaah It's nice looking at you, I just have to go My man is right over there "Where you going?" I have to go "Huhhhhh?" [to his 'man
things to escape the madness Like doin those "that I can tell by your stare" I'll come around and said we're both aware My first tv murder the night in anti-poor
VERSE 4: Tek] All I need is one night, one whore, one million dollar score Tell God to look out for one more Matter of fact maybe more than one So I can
one of them is to sell c.d.'s, overseas I mean I'm to the point, where I'm trying to weigh my own salaries Hundred percent fat, plus high counts of calories
eye now how many cadavers satisfy a mad man? and how many crooked samaritans turn plesantville to bad land? I can count my own dusty nickels with you laughing about you'll turn my poor
swimmin pool in the back yard Traitors, infiltrators of that top secret data Exterminators of creators who invented haters cause there's a civil war, poor killin poor
Victorious swing like Lo Han's, son no man could take what I start I keep the best for self, to get the poor part Plus the boot like Columbus, S.T.D.
