Richman Poorman - Baco Session (Live)

Clinton Fearon · Baco Sessions (Live)

The rich man poor man beggar man thief
Everyone claim that them are the chief
The rich man buy the poor man's life
The poor man take away the beggar man's wife
Don't cry my brothers
Don't cry my sisters

Tears won't change the situation
It's just a form, a form of reaction

If you step on fire, fire burn you
If you play with puppy, puppy lick your mouth
So stand up strong, you got to know where you belong

Say the weak ones now will soon become strong

Hey, everything will soon be okay
As soon as the war is over
Jah children will be free to come over
Singing and dancing ready to take over
Have some faith, have a little faith

Hey, everything will soon he okay
As soon as the war is over
Jah children will be free to come over
Singing and dancing ready to take over
Have some faith, have a little faith

Clinton Fearon’s ‘Richman Poorman’ sounds like a warning from the stage

‘Richman Poorman’ begins with a compressed catalogue of social roles—rich man, poor man, beggar, thief—and immediately questions who gets to claim authority. Clinton Fearon turns that premise into a roots-reggae meditation on inequality and the precariousness of life under unjust systems. The verses move between sharp, proverb-like observations and a more hopeful insistence that the weak can become strong; the refrain asks listeners not to mistake tears for change, then points toward faith and collective freedom. The directness feels especially suited to the live setting, where the song can work as a statement shared with listeners rather than a private lament.

Fearon’s performance is part of *Baco Sessions (Live)*, a five-track release from Baco Records that includes ‘Sleepin Lion’, ‘On The Other Side’, ‘Why Worry’ and ‘Time’. The label’s track list confirms this is a Baco Session performance, distinct from any studio version of the composition. Fearon is a Jamaican singer, bassist and songwriter whose earlier career included the roots-reggae group the Gladiators; that history informs the steady, bass-centred reggae language of his solo work. The session format places emphasis on the song and musicians playing together, rather than elaborate studio construction.

The song’s enduring relevance comes from its refusal to present inequality as an abstraction: the lyric links economic status to everyday relationships and political vulnerability, then counters resignation with a message of solidarity. Baco Records’ official page establishes the track’s place in the live collection, but no track-specific chart position or dedicated review is documented in the sources used here. That evidence limit is worth keeping visible. The performance’s case rests on the combination of Fearon’s longstanding roots-reggae perspective and a lyric that moves from social diagnosis toward communal confidence, carried by an unhurried groove that lets each line land clearly.