Ace's Take

[Verse 1] So I’m off to this hip hop show And my man Andy Solo he don’t wanna go So I’mma get nice like Pete kick that Willie Bobo I’m good and ready but finding parking here is like finding a Yeti I finally find a spot, of course it’s next to some fans in Ecko Smoking weed in their car, “Ain’t you Eso?” Yeah kid I dap em then I throw up a peace sign Slam the door on my 1999 Nissan I used to be embarrassed to the whip now I don’t give a shit If those are real fans of mine then I’d be in an ‘09, right? I stepped to the back stage hype And there’s Ace with an irritated look on his face [Talking] Yo, what’s good man? How you been, G? I ain’t seen you in a long time. My homie talk to me [Verse 2] Look Es, your life is kind of sort of a mess I thought you were smart but you like all of the stress Folks in the game with less than half a brain Know your manager’s name is synonymous with pain Yet and still you wanna work with his shady ass Any green you seen is lean as a blade of grass Any chance to win my friend is fading fast Compared to other managers Solo is rated last You in deep, get a lawyer to get you out Cause this game will chew you up and spit you out This game will slap you around and make you cry Then change who you are and make you lie Instead of sitting around writing them riddles and skits Make sure your dog got some Kibbles and Bits Taking care of home is really the only thing And by the way, whatever happened with that ring? [Chorus] *Scratching* Kick back [Verse 3] Ain’t that something? A legend like Masta Ace Trying to push my buttons but it’s nothing Why you gotta bring up the ring? You heard about the mugging The thugging, I’m not Bernhard Goetz, I’m more like Bernard King Meaning I don’t shoot joints, I make points And you know my dog is dead, Ace That’s in poor taste, slap in the face That dog was my saving grace And with all the shit I been through it’s no wonder I’m a basket case You trying to tell me Andy Solo is see-through as a manager But Ace I don’t believe you And homie got beats too so I gotta stay He got industry connects, we just need a few cheques I know you thinking I’m crazy, that my decision is shaky But my lyrics are out of shape, my writing hand is all edgy My inspiration can’t save me, my whole career is a maybe And my hunger’s looking out the front door like my lady I wonder if I’m rapping right But all she cares about is that dishwasher and if I be stacking it right While I record she looks at houses that we can’t afford The landlord thinks it’s Bel-Air, it’s more like fifth ward But I’mma jet and let you rock your set I’ll think about what you said and see if Solo’s a threat [Chorus]