Letras
Mama wouldn't let me say it
'Cause it was a dirty word
But I heard it when we were praying
It sounded like a curse
"Bless the less fortunate
Wherever they may be"
Thank God for my ignorance
I didn't know that was me
Poor little thing
You know not what you are
Oh, I guess it pays to be
It's gotten me this far
And any car that gets me there
Feels like a Mustang with cool air
And everything is something that I'm thankful for
Damn, when the debt's paid off, it pays to be poor
Kids would call me white trash
And kids would call me dirt
Well, I'd call 'em something right back
And hit 'em where it hurts
And Mama said that made me no better than them
Said, "Even with all that money
Maybe they just don't know loving
So you just call 'em friend"
Poor little thing
You know not what you are
Oh, I guess it pays to be
It's gotten me this far
And any car that gets me there
Feels like a Mustang with cool air
And everything is something that I'm thankful for
Damn, when the debt's paid off, it pays to be poor
And bullies just grew up to be
People who yell out, "Nothing's free"
And don't you know life ain't about handouts
But when they fall, guess who welcomes them with hands out
Poor little things
Mama wouldn't let me say it
'Cause it was a dirty word
But I heard it when we were praying
It sounded like a curse