Wasted Talent

Intro: [Mac Mall] Yeah though, it's the M-A-C y'all Young M-A-C Mall yaknow what I'm sayin'? From the Five-Tre-Five crew Str8 Crestsider, (fa sure) But I'm in the house wid my niggaaa Big Syke from Thug Lige bitch Ya know what I'm sayin'? And it's going down like this... Verse 1: Mac Mall Wasted talent, wasted time, wasted minds Suckas givin' up wid out trying Satisfied wid ya grind Farakhan lacin' soldiers everyday but you blind Ya best to beware, of this shit called minimum maximum Cause all the hustlas is catching 'em From Crestside to L.A Cutty niggas can't dodge no case Should dodge the bullet, when it's your face And I really don't know wid the mell on the glow But I fits to get it all before the two triple O Like Feddie and Big Row Hennessy so let's toast for my peo-ples And all the playas and pard-ners that ain't here For my factors and my folks wid a million years Wid no chance to appeal I know ya thinkin' that it's to real But playboy this the shit when ya lust for skreel But if ya get it... huh ya won't look back Be a certified star wid ya own dope track No tapes and CDs, just zips and Os And a faulty fan club known as the po-pos You won't last long So for ya, grand finale They ship ya ass off to the, fedaralies Ya know.... Hook: Big Syke You got to use what you got And do ya best, no time to waste Don't waste your talent life is full of stress Verse 2: A one track mind on the street still sellin' yay Advance and dance to romance the game everyday Some niggas do sixteen trife bringin' wifes back My homie caught four kis, body bags, fat sacks How many 'vances can you get from the fools that you work wid? How many chances you gon' get, from niggas in yo click? By any means for the greens is necessary A stack off obituaries, and listen to cemeteries Wid a name in the street fame, mo' game Wid out the dope game, cocaine, insane How many lives can I live in this shit Money spent for ya blueprint laid by the government Ghetto superstars yard rims made hard Pullin' hoe cards from the block to the boulevard Checkin' my traps gettin' right wid my paper work Been in the corner on Daytonas do a little dirt I lost locs through the City of Angels At the burial no star spangled I got a new angle.... Hook(2x) Verse 3: Big Syke Every corner I turn, brothers holdin' on What you waitin' on?, don't postpone, you gotta roll along Sometimes if ya crew ain't true Who's catchin' up on things already passed due Look at Jack big ten quarterback Now he's on crack he said he can't turn back How you gonna act when the future slaps you in yo face? Wish you was in another place, steady pace Is how I'm going you ain't knowin' how it really is Givin' drugs to the thugs and the little kids Smokin' sticks spendin' time barely gettin' by Didn't even try, to busy gettin' high World don't owe you, me or nobody else It's cold for sure, so do for self Let somebody else wonder and disbelieve What you could achieve Don't waste your talent, like Joe A basketball pro He'll only be a pro in the ghetto Cause he prolong, still wrong procrastinated So many waited, they wasted they talent Hook(2x)