F.A.Y. Lyrics
| Song | F.A.Y. |
| Artist | Masta Ace |
| Album | A Long Hot Summer |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Clear, Pittman, Stricklin | |
| (feat. Strick) | |
| [Verse One: Masta Ace] | |
| I'm startin' to think that my skill is a waste | |
| Still in the race with an ice grille on my face | |
| Mad at the world, mad at you, mad at my girl | |
| Mad at my friends and anybody drivin' a Benz | |
| I really hate this nigga that delivers my mail | |
| But if I hit him they gonna send me up the river to jail | |
| I hate my neighbors, they always askin' for late night favors | |
| Hate indie labels, especially hate majors | |
| I don't give a fuck no more, fuck this tour | |
| Fuck these shows and these groupies, they all ho's | |
| Hate these rude people stayin' all in my face | |
| And hate the fact that Visa always callin' my place | |
| So all you mean creditors and magazine editors | |
| Same ones that debted us and put niggaz ahead of us | |
| I'm a mad dog who sits in the dark | |
| I'm fixin' to bark watchin' 106 And Park | |
| What a mess, I guess I'm sorta stressed | |
| Turn on the radio and I get more depressed | |
| No wonder I'm kinda bitter | |
| Strick told me I should quit player hating, but fuck that I'm not a quitter | |
| Had a few cats betray me, try to play me | |
| Bail and try to blame me, fuck you pay me | |
| If y'all could, y'all would finish me | |
| That's why this finger here is for everybody in the industry | |
| [Chorus] | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That's when you ready to say "Fuck all y'all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That's when you ready to yell "Fuck all y'all" | |
| When it's really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That's when you ready to scream "Fuck all y'all" | |
| I'm talkin' to you, and I'm talking to you, and I'm talking to you nigga | |
| [Verse Two: Strick] | |
| Yo I'm simply trying to eat 'til my belly is fat | |
| And I rest in the Midwest where R. Kelly and Nelly be at | |
| Where my name ring bells like "Who's celly is that?" | |
| And "Yo Strick you about to blow!" yo stop telling me that | |
| Cuz at the end of the day I'm still just a nobody | |
| Cuz nobody knows me no record label chose me | |
| But Tommy Boy did and look where that got me | |
| A bad attitude and a reason not to be cocky | |
| A huge debt, three lawyers, and two managers | |
| A bullshit advance that didn't recoup the damages | |
| A couple of singles that wasn't really chartin' | |
| Yo Ace I got a Cherokee! "Bow Wow got an Aston Martin" | |
| That motherfucker got a mansion with a swimming pool | |
| A rec room with many games and plenty women too | |
| He prolly got his own chef and a fuckin' hot tub | |
| I got a truck with four rims but yo they not dubs | |
| Speakin' of nots yo, I'm not a happy camper | |
| Not gettin' no younger, feeling like a grandpa | |
| Yo I got low self esteem | |
| Just like a nigga running in place tryin' to chase his own selfish dream | |
| And fuck my girl, soon I'll be startin' to creep | |
| She's a slob and don't care if her carpet is neat | |
| She got a slick mouth and always gets smart when she speak | |
| And can't cook a lick and the bitch fart in her sleep | |
| I got a dog that don't bark and cat that don't meow | |
| Everybody else is rich and I don't fuckin' see how | |
| Sometimes I wonder why even bother waking up | |
| Should just end it and give back the spot I'm takin' up | |
| [Chorus] | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That's when you ready to say "Fuck all y'all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That's when you ready to yell "Fuck all y'all" | |
| When it's really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That's when you ready to scream "Fuck all y'all" | |
| I'm talkin' to you, and I'm talking to you, and I'm talking to you nigga |
| zuo ci : Clear, Pittman, Stricklin | |
| feat. Strick | |
| Verse One: Masta Ace | |
| I' m startin' to think that my skill is a waste | |
| Still in the race with an ice grille on my face | |
| Mad at the world, mad at you, mad at my girl | |
| Mad at my friends and anybody drivin' a Benz | |
| I really hate this nigga that delivers my mail | |
| But if I hit him they gonna send me up the river to jail | |
| I hate my neighbors, they always askin' for late night favors | |
| Hate indie labels, especially hate majors | |
| I don' t give a fuck no more, fuck this tour | |
| Fuck these shows and these groupies, they all ho' s | |
| Hate these rude people stayin' all in my face | |
| And hate the fact that Visa always callin' my place | |
| So all you mean creditors and magazine editors | |
| Same ones that debted us and put niggaz ahead of us | |
| I' m a mad dog who sits in the dark | |
| I' m fixin' to bark watchin' 106 And Park | |
| What a mess, I guess I' m sorta stressed | |
| Turn on the radio and I get more depressed | |
| No wonder I' m kinda bitter | |
| Strick told me I should quit player hating, but fuck that I' m not a quitter | |
| Had a few cats betray me, try to play me | |
| Bail and try to blame me, fuck you pay me | |
| If y' all could, y' all would finish me | |
| That' s why this finger here is for everybody in the industry | |
| Chorus | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That' s when you ready to say " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That' s when you ready to yell " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When it' s really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That' s when you ready to scream " Fuck all y' all" | |
| I' m talkin' to you, and I' m talking to you, and I' m talking to you nigga | |
| Verse Two: Strick | |
| Yo I' m simply trying to eat ' til my belly is fat | |
| And I rest in the Midwest where R. Kelly and Nelly be at | |
| Where my name ring bells like " Who' s celly is that?" | |
| And " Yo Strick you about to blow!" yo stop telling me that | |
| Cuz at the end of the day I' m still just a nobody | |
| Cuz nobody knows me no record label chose me | |
| But Tommy Boy did and look where that got me | |
| A bad attitude and a reason not to be cocky | |
| A huge debt, three lawyers, and two managers | |
| A bullshit advance that didn' t recoup the damages | |
| A couple of singles that wasn' t really chartin' | |
| Yo Ace I got a Cherokee! " Bow Wow got an Aston Martin" | |
| That motherfucker got a mansion with a swimming pool | |
| A rec room with many games and plenty women too | |
| He prolly got his own chef and a fuckin' hot tub | |
| I got a truck with four rims but yo they not dubs | |
| Speakin' of nots yo, I' m not a happy camper | |
| Not gettin' no younger, feeling like a grandpa | |
| Yo I got low self esteem | |
| Just like a nigga running in place tryin' to chase his own selfish dream | |
| And fuck my girl, soon I' ll be startin' to creep | |
| She' s a slob and don' t care if her carpet is neat | |
| She got a slick mouth and always gets smart when she speak | |
| And can' t cook a lick and the bitch fart in her sleep | |
| I got a dog that don' t bark and cat that don' t meow | |
| Everybody else is rich and I don' t fuckin' see how | |
| Sometimes I wonder why even bother waking up | |
| Should just end it and give back the spot I' m takin' up | |
| Chorus | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That' s when you ready to say " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That' s when you ready to yell " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When it' s really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That' s when you ready to scream " Fuck all y' all" | |
| I' m talkin' to you, and I' m talking to you, and I' m talking to you nigga |
| zuò cí : Clear, Pittman, Stricklin | |
| feat. Strick | |
| Verse One: Masta Ace | |
| I' m startin' to think that my skill is a waste | |
| Still in the race with an ice grille on my face | |
| Mad at the world, mad at you, mad at my girl | |
| Mad at my friends and anybody drivin' a Benz | |
| I really hate this nigga that delivers my mail | |
| But if I hit him they gonna send me up the river to jail | |
| I hate my neighbors, they always askin' for late night favors | |
| Hate indie labels, especially hate majors | |
| I don' t give a fuck no more, fuck this tour | |
| Fuck these shows and these groupies, they all ho' s | |
| Hate these rude people stayin' all in my face | |
| And hate the fact that Visa always callin' my place | |
| So all you mean creditors and magazine editors | |
| Same ones that debted us and put niggaz ahead of us | |
| I' m a mad dog who sits in the dark | |
| I' m fixin' to bark watchin' 106 And Park | |
| What a mess, I guess I' m sorta stressed | |
| Turn on the radio and I get more depressed | |
| No wonder I' m kinda bitter | |
| Strick told me I should quit player hating, but fuck that I' m not a quitter | |
| Had a few cats betray me, try to play me | |
| Bail and try to blame me, fuck you pay me | |
| If y' all could, y' all would finish me | |
| That' s why this finger here is for everybody in the industry | |
| Chorus | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That' s when you ready to say " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That' s when you ready to yell " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When it' s really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That' s when you ready to scream " Fuck all y' all" | |
| I' m talkin' to you, and I' m talking to you, and I' m talking to you nigga | |
| Verse Two: Strick | |
| Yo I' m simply trying to eat ' til my belly is fat | |
| And I rest in the Midwest where R. Kelly and Nelly be at | |
| Where my name ring bells like " Who' s celly is that?" | |
| And " Yo Strick you about to blow!" yo stop telling me that | |
| Cuz at the end of the day I' m still just a nobody | |
| Cuz nobody knows me no record label chose me | |
| But Tommy Boy did and look where that got me | |
| A bad attitude and a reason not to be cocky | |
| A huge debt, three lawyers, and two managers | |
| A bullshit advance that didn' t recoup the damages | |
| A couple of singles that wasn' t really chartin' | |
| Yo Ace I got a Cherokee! " Bow Wow got an Aston Martin" | |
| That motherfucker got a mansion with a swimming pool | |
| A rec room with many games and plenty women too | |
| He prolly got his own chef and a fuckin' hot tub | |
| I got a truck with four rims but yo they not dubs | |
| Speakin' of nots yo, I' m not a happy camper | |
| Not gettin' no younger, feeling like a grandpa | |
| Yo I got low self esteem | |
| Just like a nigga running in place tryin' to chase his own selfish dream | |
| And fuck my girl, soon I' ll be startin' to creep | |
| She' s a slob and don' t care if her carpet is neat | |
| She got a slick mouth and always gets smart when she speak | |
| And can' t cook a lick and the bitch fart in her sleep | |
| I got a dog that don' t bark and cat that don' t meow | |
| Everybody else is rich and I don' t fuckin' see how | |
| Sometimes I wonder why even bother waking up | |
| Should just end it and give back the spot I' m takin' up | |
| Chorus | |
| When you tryin' to hustle for pay and people get in your way | |
| That' s when you ready to say " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When the job is givin' ya hell and pay is minimum scale | |
| That' s when you ready to yell " Fuck all y' all" | |
| When it' s really starting to seem that people killing your dream | |
| That' s when you ready to scream " Fuck all y' all" | |
| I' m talkin' to you, and I' m talking to you, and I' m talking to you nigga |
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