Mi Pobre Gente Pobre

Yeah!
It's Canserbero, Venezuela
Yeah!
Fists up
Listen
Brothers of the world who dream of being able to dream

It's very early and the worker is already ready to go to work
Because he has to look for bread
He gives up his seat on the bus to an elderly woman
Who is surely also heading to work
And the housewives are already wrapping the little arepas
That the kids at school will have for breakfast
The sun came out, the sun came out, the neighborhood has already woken up
The coffee perfumes the shacks and the alley
The newspaper is bought at the traffic light
To be aware of the newest, most tragic crimes
And the traffic, which also wakes up early
It seems worse when we are short of time
And the kids, who are going to be taught to add
To subtract, multiply and divide
Without knowing that being a child is the coolest
Innocent that they are our hope to rise

This song is dedicated to my poor poor people
For my neighborhood, for my people
Those who fight daily to get bread
Brothers of the world who dream of being able to dream

(Yes) it's for my poor poor people
This song is dedicated to my poor poor people
Brothers of the world who dream of being able to dream

And in the neighborhood you hear salsa, merengue, and cumbia
Real hip-hop, drums, vallenatos
In broad daylight the policeman and his disgusting abuse
Maybe that's why they call them snitches
Meanwhile, the grandpa watches smiling, reflective
His granddaughter playing, still grateful to be alive
And the neighbors gather on the sidewalk
To watch the baseball game when there are no soap operas
The man from the store has to close early
Because there are as many noble poor as there are bad men
Who abuse and abuse, causing tears
Among the many brothers who fight

This song is for my poor poor people
This song is for the noble poor
This song is for women and men
Brothers of the world who dream of being able to dream (you)
It's for my poor poor people
It's for my poor poor people

Sometimes I think they forgot about the neighborhood
Our rulers and powerful businessmen
Who cannot stop the crime that slowly kills
Brothers in my neighborhood
The shacks on the movie street
Playing barefoot soccer with two separate stones
The scared lady because the street is dangerous
And nowadays it's easier to get a gun than a book
My poor poor people live in neighborhoods
And there's only the work done by the university student
Because you can study for free
But by fifteen it's almost
Impossible not to carry copper
And being poor is not easy
However, there is happiness
There is good humor even if there's little to eat
The history of humanity shows that adversity
Is what has made men grow

Yeah!
It's Canserbero from Venezuela
Latino!
Raise your flag high