Yea, M A L O
Take a look at my eyes
Take a look at my eyes, and tell me what you see
When you look at me, wutuwankno now
[Masta Ace]
I'ma speak to the fans now the ask the questions
So there's no room for errors, no chance for guessing
That's the reason why on this track I choose to rap
It's to make sure that none of yall consufe the facts
'Cause no I never moved to Cali
I just had a bitch in Compton and a few in the valley
And "Born 2 Roll" never went gold or so I'm told
I never did find out how much the shit sold
And no I ain't saw at Marley
Though I rarely ever see him and I call him harley
And no I never lived in the bridge
But Craig and Shante, did as kids
Straight from the ville had to catch the train
No I never picked a pocket or snatched a chain
I was way too deep in the music
God gave me a gift, I decided to keep it and use it
And no I wasn't dissing Ghost
Before you try to spread beef, you should listen close
I gotta watch what I'm yelling fella
'Cause some fans dumb like Hellen Keller
No, label ain't off the ground
But we bound to get yall niggaz open off the sound
No, we ain't got an office yet
But we got big plans like an architect
Take a look
[Chorus]
Take a look at my eyes, and tell me what you see
When you look at me, wutuwankno now
Take a look at my life, and tell me what you see
When you look at me, wutuwankno now
Take a look at my eyes, and tell me what you see
When you look at me, wutuwankno now
Take a look at my life, and tell me what you see
When you look at me, please I got to go now
[Edo. G]
I see the look of concern and fake, it's your turn to wait
I play the judge, and the jury and the journallete
See, that tend to happen when you learn hate
Edo left out good, but returned great
And now I'm about to face the city
Plus I got a case with Diddy
For jacking my classic
I got to have it beat that's so greedy, I'm so witty
And yall niggaz is so pretty
Outside of Boston, people ask me about Benzino
Are we cool, do we got beef, or is we peoples
We could debate on that, but I guess yall got to wait on that
Now hate on that nigga, and stop stirring up beef
You turning up grief, when you doubt your beliefs
Stay out of grown folk business
We young enterpreneurs that own our own business
I answer questions like a witness
And chop your crew down, with no forgiveness
Take a look in his eyes
he's an angel on the outside. but a crook in disguise
Now take a look
[Chorus]
[Masta Ace]
Look here, I got to go, be fair, I got a show
You here, you kind of slow, oh yeah, you got to know
Well, I do got a lot to tell
And a book 'bout my life got a shot to sell
Yea, them raps 'bout them rise, I was one of the first
But them fats niggaz high like a gun in a purse
Yea I made you put them chromey things on your cars
And yea, I used to hang with some porno stars
Strip clubs on the weekly basis
I used to, see these faces in some freaky places
But all that's behind me, it's not the same
When you reach a certain age, life is not a game
I was in the fast lane, I was out for speed
But now I got more than one mouth to feed
Yea, it used to be all about a hump and the rub
But I ain't tryin' to be that old nigga up in the club
