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Now here we go, y'all gotta play this |
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(Why?) 'Cause the others are so scared to say this |
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Now tell me, what am I supposed to do |
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About a sucker like you who ain't never paid dues? |
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Slapper, hip-happer, you're gettin' wacker |
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Your girl better step, or I just might jack her |
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Smack her like a gangster, but I don't bang |
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I gank suckers like you for thick gold chains |
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(He don't deserve it) Hell nah |
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So take it off your neck |
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'Cause Goddamn, you ain't comin' correct |
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What's this, a sucker duck holdin' a mic? |
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And like Keith Sweat said, somethin' just ain't right |
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Seems nowadays everybody wanna be a rapper |
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Down wit' crews |
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But they ain't never paid dues |
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Suckers perpetratin', playin' hardcore |
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Punks, I bet you worked at a flower store |
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You know what eats me up the most? |
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Is when a sucker just started and thinks he's high post |
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You ain't pay a nann due in your life |
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Talkin' 'bout a new style, you know who you sound like? |
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KRS, Chuck D, Kool Moe, as one |
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Yellin' on the mic like ya name was Run |
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You'se a peon, went and bought a pair of Lee's |
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Now all of a sudden you supposed to be an MC? |
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Yo, that's wack, it just ain't right |
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You only stood on one stage in your whole damn life |
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Now you want respect, hey yo, you'se a fool |
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Everybody wanna rap, but they ain't paid dues |
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[Verse 2] |
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I can still remember way, way back in the days |
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The times me and Aladdin dreamed of gettin' paid |
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Standin' outside just to pull in the jacks |
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To earn a little money to drop a dope track |
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Back in the days I drove a raggedy Dodge |
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Couldn't afford a studio, so we used a garage |
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Aladdin used to grab a gang of disco breaks |
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One turntable and a broken 808 |
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My little brother Tunes and Frank, they hung around all night |
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To make sure that the demo was tight |
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Didn't have an enigneer, if you know what I mean |
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Aladdin did it all at the age of 16 |
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Gifted, uplifted, straight gangsta Mack |
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Suckers had me playin' the back |
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But thanks to Ice-T I got my foot in the door |
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Now I'ma rock the mutha-(uh) till it ain't no more |
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We paid dues |
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[Verse 3] |
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I knew a brother who used to dress just like a faggot |
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Real tight jeans, some boots and leather jackets |
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Homie as hell, he never came outside |
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'Cause everytime I came around, he used to run and hide |
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Spoiled like a brat, had everything he wanted |
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And when he walked, he switched like a woman |
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Rode a pink bike, man, the sucker was soft |
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Had to be in before the street lights came on |
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Yo, just the other day I turned my radio on |
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The Mack Attack kicked on a brand new song |
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I didn't know what it was, I never heard it before |
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But the record was smooth and hardcore |
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I said to myself, "Hey yo, I gotta see this group." |
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So I called up Aladdin and the rest of the crew |
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Grabbed the nine wit' the hollow point tip |
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Stepped in the party with a gangster limp |
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Took a look at the stage, and yo, whaddya know? |
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The same old faggot from a long time ago |
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From real tight jeans and the go-go boots |
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He went to Pendeltons and a khaki suit |
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Now tell me, ain't this a blip? |
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Somebody need to slap the perpetrator in the lip |
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Yesterday he was a mamma's boy, now he's rappin? |
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Foolin' the crowd because he got you all clappin' |
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And tappin', an example of what I'm tryin' to prove |
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A sucker like this who ain't never paid dues |
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So to those who wanna rap, I'm pertainin' to you |
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Before you pick up a mic, you gotta pay dues, word |
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Let the story be told |
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That's the way it is |
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You got to pay yo' dues |
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Low Profile definitely in the buildin', ya dig? |
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W.C., DJ Aladdin |
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Frank, Crazy Tunes, Jazzy D |
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Abracadabra, DJ Aladdin |
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We outta here |
