Say, look at this, I've been cleaning out my nest
And I found an old book of my poetry
Fresh out of school 'cause I was a high school grad
Gots to get a job 'cuz I was a high school dad
Wish I got paid by rappin' to the nation
But that's not likely, so here's my application
Pass it to the man at AT&T
'Cuz when I was in school, I got the A.E.E.
But there's no S.E. for this youngsta
I didn't have no money so now I gotta punch the clock
Gotta slave and be half a man
The whitey says there's no room for the African
Always knew that I would clock G's
But welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order, please?
Gotta serve ya food that might give you cancer
'Cuz my son doesn't take no for an answer
Now I pay taxes that you never give me back
What about diapers, bottles and Similac?
Do I have to sell me a whole lotta crack
For decent shelter and clothes on my back?
Or should I just wait for help from Bush
Or Jesse Jackson and Operation Push?
If you ask me, the whole thing needs a douche
A Massingill, what the hell crackers sell in the neighborhood?
To the corner house bitches
Miss Porker, Little Joe and Todd Bridges
Or anybody that he know
So I got me a bird better known as a kilo
Now everybody know I went from po'
To a nigga that got dough
So now you put the Feds against me
'Cause I couldn't follow the plan of the presidency
I'm never givin' love again
But blacks are too fuckin' broke to be republican
Now I remember, I used to be cool
Till I stopped fillin' out my W-2
Now senators are gettin' hired
And your plan against the ghetto backfired
So now you got a pep talk
But sorry, this is our only room to walk
'Cause we don't want a drug push
But a bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush
Tell the politicians, the hustlers
Live and let live, yeah
Tell the politicians, the hustlers
Live and let live, yeah
And I found an old book of my poetry
Fresh out of school 'cause I was a high school grad
Gots to get a job 'cuz I was a high school dad
Wish I got paid by rappin' to the nation
But that's not likely, so here's my application
Pass it to the man at AT&T
'Cuz when I was in school, I got the A.E.E.
But there's no S.E. for this youngsta
I didn't have no money so now I gotta punch the clock
Gotta slave and be half a man
The whitey says there's no room for the African
Always knew that I would clock G's
But welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order, please?
Gotta serve ya food that might give you cancer
'Cuz my son doesn't take no for an answer
Now I pay taxes that you never give me back
What about diapers, bottles and Similac?
Do I have to sell me a whole lotta crack
For decent shelter and clothes on my back?
Or should I just wait for help from Bush
Or Jesse Jackson and Operation Push?
If you ask me, the whole thing needs a douche
A Massingill, what the hell crackers sell in the neighborhood?
To the corner house bitches
Miss Porker, Little Joe and Todd Bridges
Or anybody that he know
So I got me a bird better known as a kilo
Now everybody know I went from po'
To a nigga that got dough
So now you put the Feds against me
'Cause I couldn't follow the plan of the presidency
I'm never givin' love again
But blacks are too fuckin' broke to be republican
Now I remember, I used to be cool
Till I stopped fillin' out my W-2
Now senators are gettin' hired
And your plan against the ghetto backfired
So now you got a pep talk
But sorry, this is our only room to walk
'Cause we don't want a drug push
But a bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush
Tell the politicians, the hustlers
Live and let live, yeah
Tell the politicians, the hustlers
Live and let live, yeah
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Rank−
Duration00:02:17
Charts
Copyright ©Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/atv Music Publishing
WriterO'shea Jackson, Mark S. Jordan, George Jr. Clinton, Ronald Dunbar, Donnie Ray Sterling, Garry Marshall Shider, William Earl Collins
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedOctober 1st, 2005
Last updatedMarch 5th, 2022
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