Intro: [Mac Mall]
Yeah though, it`s the M-A-C y`all
Young M-A-C Mall yaknow what I`m sayin`?
From the Five-Tre-Five crew
Str8 Crestsider, (fa sure)
but I`m in the house wid my niggaaa,
Big Syke from Thug Lige bitch,
Ya know what I`m sayin`?
And it`s going down like this...
Verse 1: Mac Mall
Wasted talent, wasted time, wasted minds
Suckas givin` up wid out trying
Satisfied wid ya grind
Farakhan lacin` soldiers everyday but you blind,
Ya best to beware, of this shit called minimum maximum
Cause all the hustlas is catching `em,
From Crestside to L.A.
Cutty niggas can`t dodge no case
Should dodge the bullet, when it`s your face,
And I really don`t know wid the mell on the glow
But I fits to get it all before the two triple O
Like Feddie and Big Row,
Hennessy so let`s toast for my peo-ples
And all the playas and pard-ners that ain`t here
For my factors and my folks wid a million years
Wid no chance to appeal,
I know ya thinkin` that it`s to real
But playboy this the shit when ya lust for skreel
But if ya get it... huh ya won`t look back
Be a certified star wid ya own dope track
No tapes and CDs, just zips and Os
And a faulty fan club known as the po-pos
You won`t last long,
So for ya, grand finale
They ship ya ass off to the, fedaralies,
Ya know....
Hook: Big Syke
You got to use what you got,
And do ya best, no time to waste
Don`t waste your talent life is full of stress
Verse 2:
A one track mind on the street still sellin` yay
Advance and dance to romance the game everyday
Some niggas do sixteen trife bringin` wifes back
My homie caught four kis, body bags, fat sacks
How many `vances can you get from the fools that you work wid?
How many chances you gon` get, from niggas in yo click?
By any means for the greens is necessary
A stack off obituaries, and listen to cemeteries
Wid a name in the street fame, mo` game
Wid out the dope game, cocaine, insane
How many lives can I live in this shit
Money spent for ya blueprint laid by the government,
Ghetto superstars yard rims made hard
Pullin` hoe cards from the block to the boulevard
Checkin` my traps gettin` right wid my paper work
Been in the corner on Daytonas do a little dirt,
I lost locs through the City of Angels
At the burial no star spangled
I got a new angle....
Hook(2x)
Verse 3: Big Syke
Every corner I turn, brothers holdin` on
What you waitin` on?, don`t postpone, you gotta roll along
Sometimes if ya crew ain`t true,
Who`s catchin` up on things already passed due,
Look at Jack big ten quarterback,
Now he`s on crack he said he can`t turn back
How you gonna act when the future slaps you in yo face?
Wish you was in another place, steady pace,
Is how I`m going you ain`t knowin` how it really is,
Givin` drugs to the thugs and the little kids
Smokin` sticks spendin` time barely gettin` by,
Didn`t even try, to busy gettin` high,
World don`t owe you, me or nobody else
It`s cold for sure, so do for self
Let somebody else wonder and disbelieve
What you could achieve,
Don`t waste your talent, like Joe
A basketball pro,
He`ll only be a pro in the ghetto,
Cause he prolong, still wrong procrastinated,
So many waited, they wasted they talent
Hook(2x)
