Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Keep Your Eyes on Your Enemies - Hip Hop Flashback!



Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies, and watch your friends

See money get you power, but it also get you dead

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies, and watch your friends
See money get you sex, but it also get you dead

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies, and watch your friends
See money get you respect, but it also get you dead

Keep yo' eyes on yo' enemies, and watch your friends
See money bring power, but that's why it gets you dead


Somebody ask me how it feel to have change
How I feel to be a major muthafucka in this game


I'll told them, let the sunshine turn to rain
In other words, that's cool but a lot of shit I can't explain


Like Bitches say they love me, but I can't really believe 'em
Who wouldn't wanna love me, I got money and I'm succedin'


Them bitches got niggas, niggas got bitches, they be plottin'
You show 'em your crib
Next week they kickin' in yo' spot


And it's a shame when niggas bust your brains with the stripes
It seems like I'm the only nigga trippin' on my life


At night I say my prays with my vest on
My triggas under my pillows
I'm even scared to get my rest on


Runnin' with them killas that'll ride for me, die for me
Open fire for me, wouldn't lie to me
I watch my back, I watch my front
I watch them niggas, I watch them bitches
In fact I think they all tryna kill Mac!


Written by: Mac and Master P
Song: Money Gets It
Album: Shell Shocked by Mac

Sunday, November 5, 2017

I am CRACK

I came to this country with my mama
Everybody called her the white girl

But you all knew I had a lil' somethin' somethin' on me
Cause my outer was slightly tanned
Southern folk called me a yellowgal

I've been out here in this world for a while now
Bringing madness and mayhem to man, woman, and child

You see my mother, the white girl had several lovers
So my father's true identity has yet to be discovered

Some call it A-1 soda others V-12
Doctor Tishner has been implicated
But all of their seeds are incriminating evidence

As far as my perception goes
My mother, she was indeed good, but I was most powerful
Just ask anybody in your hood
You can even ask those in corporate America about this mobstress

Most times, I as little as a pea, though my weight fluctuates
Size ain't shit, cause I have enough game to make you steal from ya mama
And call her out by her name

I can make her neglect her children, sell her body, perform dirty tricks
On her knees and be called the neighborhood hottie

Everybody's a thief and a liar once they make my acquaintance
They be anxious to buy my love, they lust for me
Want to hold me and test my purity, but it's only for a moment

You see the ecstasy that I give to you
It's only temporary but quite costly
I'm bossy from your very first encounter with me
I tell you, you need me, gots to have me, can't live without me

Even though I can be smaller than a pea, my game extends, it gets deeper
You see my skills don't pimp just the weak minded
The so-called big ballin' brothers are obsessed with me
They kill, rob, and plot on one another to possess me

They see me as a goddess
The financial path that will lead them out the ghetto
But don't they know, have a clue
That I and my mother were sent here to destroy them
To entice, baffle, and trap them

Conscious people call the conspiracy genocide
Well, what do you think

I mean you make money off me, while they pile up evidence on you
Then get you to spend all the money you're stackin'
On lawyers and bail bondsmen

They seize your property and worldly items
That have you caught up in this lifestyle

Material things that turn friends to foes
Woman to hoe, man to monster

Yeah nigga you've changed but so what
Cause I give you what you need I give you power
Make you feel invincible right by me
I make you feel like a big man

No matter how fat, ugly, illiterate you are
I make the prettiest women love you
Fight over you and compete with others trying to give you babies

I make your relative, want to kiss your ass
Treat you like a king and roll out the red carpet

They've got one hand out for money
And the other hand has a pen in it so you can sign your life policy

My assistance makes you have that edge over the next man
Cause it's all about me and the lover of money, the root of all evil
The necessities of function in this society

I make all your gangsta dumbass stories interesting
Cause you are the man

I mean we listen in awe as you speak of your murder tales
Ménage a trios, homosexual advances, and secret romances
I'm bout it and I make you feel bout it bout it

I split family, split friends, split lovers and even business partners
So niggas nickname me crack, ain't that something

I'm the reason why a lot of people are homeless, crazy, crippled
Why they're HIV positive and dead

But you still want me, feel the need for me to be in your possession
Fear to get high off my intoxicating little pieces
Or to spread my love to profit
You're even willing to kill and die for me

And even though my mother, the white girl
Engaged in several orgies for my creation
I still know my father, you know him too
You follow his lead, and work with him

Claim you hate him but your actions are different from your tongue
Let's face it, you serve him faster than you do your God

We own you nigga

And as far as the ones that send I and my mother here to destroy you
We own them too
So after all my destruction, I must pat myself on the back, uh uh

I am crack, the devil's daughter
Human life, mind destroyer

You need me, yeah ya do, for sho' ya do, you really do
So go head on nigga, take a hit

I'ma keep putting you out on the streets
Freeze you now, help me to kill you

Hoodlum poetry, food for ya mind
Wake up deaf, dumb and blind, it's time

Written by: Craig Bazile / Vyshonn King Miller / Mia Young

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