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]