Oh, what a night, yo, that I just been through
|
I barely made it home from this hip-hop venue
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These 2 guys, no 3 guys, no fourth, yo, this posse
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Try to fake a move and bumrush me like a Nazi
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Underground club where the kids are like rolling
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I almost got an avalance dropped on my show and
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'Cause I writes the fat raps and kids memorize 'em
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I tries 'em this freestyle and boy did I surprise 'em
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They said yo, that's too hype, yo, who's he think he is
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He suppose to be commercial like that song about the Biz
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The kid said "Masta Ace, yo what's the deal wit the switching?"
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He's bitching, didn't like the rap I was pitching
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You see, he was a rapper wit a single about to drop
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His record label told him that he had to make it pop
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Take it from me Jack, you're sadly mistaken
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Alot of record labels been trying to get the bacon
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By making a brother into something he is not and
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You're better of and dammer on a farm picking cotton
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They mold ya and shape ya, they bend and they twist ya
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They get paid like quick fast and that's when they dis ya
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So homeboy, you're better off coming from the heart
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And letting the kids put your record on the chart
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You must use your head and forget what they said
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'Cause in about a year you'll be like wake me when I'm dead
|
|
(Chorus)
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(Wake up) The Masta, the Ace and the Brand New, the Heavies (2x)
|
|
If this was an opera, I'll probably say Figaro
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Black kid from Brooklyn but don't call me Nigga tho'
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I rocks the jams for the young population
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I wonder, I wonder, can I change the nation
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it's futile, so I try, yes, hoping, yea, maybe
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But I can't sit home and write Ice, Ice Baby
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'Cause if it comes down to, I must have a pocket
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I go get a dayjob and rapping, I'll stop it
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I'm never going out, so, yo, firm I am standing
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'Cause my jams are fat like a cop named Canon
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My rap is for the mind, it's nutritious
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My word is final, devinyl and delicious
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So face it as if it was a hot fudge sundae
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Or I'll come get mine, I guess maybe one day
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I gotta work hard and must use my head
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You'll never hit the point, I'm saying wake me when I'm dead
|
|
Chorus (2x)
|
|
Wake me when I'm dead, hey yo, wake me when I'm dead
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This life is like a nightmare, I'm gonna lose my head
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So I make the jam that'll make me feel better
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I hear alot of groups that come cheesier than cheddar
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But this jam is well bulit like '57 Chevies
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The Masta, the Ace and the Brand New, the Heavies
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So weigh this on ya, underground scaling
|
We be prevailing while others be failing
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I'm hailing from Brooklyn and I strive for the ends
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But I don't need a Beemer and I don't need a Benz
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Still I got respect for the style I'll be choosing
|
Rapping to the soul kind of jazz like confusion
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I'm cruising not for a bruising but I'll break up
|
Anything that's broiling like an LA Laker
|
So I rocks the West Coast as well as the city, yo
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I got crazy flavor like a PE video
|
Plus I got alot of, um, skill and that's word doc
|
With battle, who me G, you're crazier than Murdoch
|
Instead of confronting, you oughta be checking
|
The time 'cause it's wasting, second after second
|
You're so busy ripping and daring kids to shoot ya
|
According to the Jetsons, there's no blacks in the future
|
you better wake up before you're in over your head
|
Tomorrow, you'll be screaming wake me when I'm dead
|
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Chorus (2x)
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|
-----------------
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Wake Me When I'm Dead
|
| Master Ace |
