INTRO [Maestro Fresh Wes - talking]
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Yeah, yeah yeah. I got my man in the studio, Mac. What's going on money?
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[Mac] Yo what's up? Chill
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[Maestro] Word. I remember back in the days, you know. I be thinking, you
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go in the studio, you drop a record, you know what I"m saying. That's all
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I'm saying. You get your porps an dloot the whole nine. Word (word). I
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think brothers gotta wake up and smell the coffee you know what I'm saying.
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[Mac] Brothers gotta wake up man
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[Maestro] Word, word man
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CHORUS X4
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[Studio People] You gotta wake up, you gotta gotta wake up
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[Maestro] Check it, it's all about makin' records
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[Maestro]
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Everyday I wake up, I thank God
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'Cause I never had to kill, never had to rob
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Always had a job
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The industry's hard, full of frauds
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But I never pulled a card on the boulevard
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I just work hard
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Ask a vet about disaster, you hafta
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Be able to get a label to blast your procraster-
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Nating the laughter, has to wait
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After you pass the snake, stay awake Hobbes
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That's the breaks
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You wanna make a record, check it
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You need more than your boys around your way giving you credit
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'Cause you can have a spectacular, vernacular
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But take your contract to a lawyer to look after ya
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'Cause labels have mastered the
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Skill of gassing ya, after ya, dropped the flip like a spatula
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Snatch your Acura
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And all the bitches you wanted
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Are flaunted your riches are laugh at ya
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Cut you off like a dagger, support you like a laddere
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Your pockets ain't fatter, you be sadder
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So you better have a better strate-gy
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Can't you see
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It ain't healthy, nobody could tell me it's hell see
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Takes more than a dope LP to be wealthy
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Let me show you the path, you're going too fast
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You're choking your promotional staff, ain't no knowing the half
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They look and they laugh, and take time off
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Cut ya off, no loss you're just a write off
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Now you're feeling neglected and rejected
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Check it, it's all about makin' records
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CHORUS X2
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[Maestro Fresh Wes]
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You want to see pandemonia rip
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Well you're melodious shit
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You shackle and tackle by chicks, packing like Appleonia(?) six
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Having the hoes on your jock
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A smooth individual, your videos on Yo! and the Box
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Collecting your props, you think you're getting your nots
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Forgetting black man attacks man's upsetting and sweating ya pops
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Ringing the bell, ringing 'em hell
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I'm telling them facts, black be clever you better rebel
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You're outta here like flash dance
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You and your wack stance
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Regroup from your advance, fat chance!
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You're say that you're only playing with your soul
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You're innovative, but they got creative control
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You're a puppet on a string, ain't got a fucking thing
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You can sing so they cling, 'cause they know thay going to bring
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Money with your rhyme but you're def dumb and blind
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Don't waste time nigger, sign that dotted line
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CHORUS X4
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[Maestro Fresh Wes]
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Now in the studio, you got the stupid flow
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It doesn't matter tho, it's who you know
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You think you got it bad, girls got it the harder way
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Labels love to see a black woman in lingerie
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What's a broad to say when a label say we'll make you millions
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Buy clothes for your children, you know she hit the ceiling
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They sing for me, we'll bring you G's
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But injuries in the industry, could come instantly
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I see the way they make a G a day, but what a fee to pay
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Throwing and showing your T and A
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You're taking a blow, your ass you shake it to show
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Is raking the dough, but they played you and make you a ho
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You're a piece of meat, between the sheets
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'Nuff brothers seek to reach you, to freak or so to speak
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Your Moms can't believe this, her daughter showing cleavage
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She's speachless, and says oh help me sweet Jesus
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Exposing the punanny, just to win a Grammy
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But when that ass is flabby, you gone, word to daddy
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Stop the degradation you're facing
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This information I'm raising to the Queens of my nation
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The shit can't prolong, goes strong
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And when you sing a slow song (baby keep your clothes on)
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Times are hard, many hearts are broken
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Some start to smoke, Farrakhan ain't joking
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| When he said we' |