Artist: Masta Ace f/ Strick Album: A Long Hot Summer Song: F.A.Y. Typed by: liquidswordsrjp@yahoo.com
[Verse One: Masta Ace] I'm startin' to think that my skill is a waste Still in the race with an ice grille on my face Mad at the world, mad at you, mad at my girl Mad at my friends and anybody drivin' a Benz I really hate this nigga that delivers my mail But if I hit him they gonna send me up the river to jail I hate my neighbors, they always askin' for late night favors Hate indie labels, especially hate majors I don't give a fuck no more, fuck this tour Fuck these shows and these groupies, they all ho's Hate these rude people stayin' all in my face And hate the fact that Visa always callin' my place So all you mean creditors and magazine editors Same ones that debted us and put niggaz ahead of us I'm a mad dog who sits in the dark I'm fixin' to bark watchin' 106 And Park What a mess, I guess I'm sorta stressed Turn on the radio and I get more depressed No wonder I'm kinda bitter Strick told me I should quit player hating, but fuck that I'm not a quitter Had a few cats betray me, try to play me Bail and try to blame me, fuck you pay me If y'all could, y'all would finish me That's why this finger here is for everybody in the industry
[Chorus] When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way That's when you ready to say "Fuck all y'all" When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale That's when you ready to yell "Fuck all y'all" When it's really starting to seem that people killing your dream That's when you ready to scream "Fuck all y'all" I'm talkin' to you, and I'm talking to you, and I'm talking to you nigga
[Verse Two: Strick] Yo I'm simply trying to eat ‘til my belly is fat And I rest in the Midwest where R. Kelly and Nelly be at Where my name ring bells like "Who's celly is that?" And "Yo Strick you about to blow!" yo stop telling me that Cuz at the end of the day I'm still just a nobody Cuz nobody knows me no record label chose me But Tommy Boy did and look where that got me A bad attitude and a reason not to be cocky A huge debt, three lawyers, and two managers A bullshit advance that didn't recoup the damages A couple of singles that wasn't really chartin' Yo Ace I got a Cherokee! "Bow Wow got an Aston Martin" That motherfucker got a mansion with a swimming pool A rec room with many games and plenty women too He prolly got his own chef and a fuckin' hot tub I got a truck with four rims but yo they not dubs Speakin' of nots yo, I'm not a happy camper Not gettin' no younger, feeling like a grandpa Yo I got low self esteem Just like a nigga running in place tryin' to chase his own selfish dream And fuck my girl, soon I'll be startin' to creep She's a slob and don't care if her carpet is neat She got a slick mouth and always gets smart when she speak And can't cook a lick and the bitch fart in her sleep I got a dog that don't bark and cat that don't meow Everybody else is rich and I don't fuckin' see how Sometimes I wonder why even bother waking up Should just end it and give back the spot I'm takin' up
[Chorus] When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way That's when you ready to say "Fuck all y'all" When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale That's when you ready to yell "Fuck all y'all" When it's really starting to seem that people killing your dream That's when you ready to scream "Fuck all y'all" I'm talkin' to you, and I'm talking to you, and I'm talking to you nigga