You know what talks when I rich man talks
Bought and paid for like a waiter's silly grin
Money talks
Bullshit walks
And it doesn't take much to get under silky skin
And to kick him off his crutch
And to prod him like a pin
And to demonstrate the ice
On which he skates through life is thin
Rearrange all his change
That's a good place to begin
Make a mash of his stash
Take a shred to his bread
There's nothing more annoying than a rich man talking
Bout the poor man's struggle
Wouldn't you agree?
There's nothing more revolting
Than a white man rapping ghetto
Sipping champagne Sunday
Boating on the sea
Though he's gonna swim for dry land
No man is an island
He's got to wonder why eventually
When you've seen a man climb from a hole
That's when you know how
He's got some know how
That's when you know how
He's got some soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem