Souls Of Mischief

Souls Of Mischief - Tell Me Who Profits lyrics

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 I could give a damn about you and your crew
 everybody's frontin'
 aint nobody bein' true to
 the things they say
 they say...

 Man  I understand

 A Plus: And

 I got a plan for improvement. . .

 A Plus:
 But you gets the finger
 and I bring a
 attitude with me
 cause brothas that I know be acting shifty
 let me be me
 and I'll let you be you
 but why talk about me if it's not me that you're talkin' to
 lets make it clear
 you do not know, me
 so skip 'How ya livin', 'How ya feel, bro G'
 to me that's phony
 asking if my shit's dropping
 the kids stop when
 they start to get they lips popped, and
 they say I forgot 'em
 but I aint seen 'em in four years,

 You always had my number,

 A-Plus: So step with your poor tears
 and what about,

 Opio: Plus is my man!

 A0Plus: You need to stop it
 screw the doers
 of rumors
 cause you nerds never profit.

 "Tell me who profits? You got beat, cause you like to gossip."


 In school I never used to raise my hand in class
 I always knew the teacher's hand
 a passing grade to me
 in the back, relax
 cause they wasn't kickin' facts
 in facts
 I never learned nuttin',


 I can fool with the school system
 they take facts and twist 'em
 into knots, right up the block's
 a spot
 to get a 40
 around the corner get craps,


 Perhaps these is traps
 to keep us tapped
 saps, can buy gats
 with flat-tipped bullet caps
 in the locker room with no hassle
 and assholes sell cracks in sacks
 to class-foes & friends
 cause the mass goes with the trend.


 My friend
 the niggas makin' ends is livin' illegal
 that's the way to go
 I'm out to get dough.


 The education, to get you further
 than murder and drugs with thugs
 you're better off being a nerd.


 That's absurd
 life don't mean nuthin' without phat pockets
 that's the only way to get paid
 you tell me who profits.


 "O&P: Tell me who profits?
 O: I'll have G's,
 P: But you'll get shot, kid (dick)!"


 ya gotta wonder
 why niggas plunder, kill
 have ya torn a sunder
 cuz I'ma build
 and fill
 a glass pipe full of crack
 and black men's pockets be phat
 a little
 lets whittle the way to the core now
 ya packin' a Glock
 mackin' the block
 fight with the cops
 well, who ya takin' the risk for?
 A kingpin swingin'
 with the president
 greasin' 'em up & givin' 'em papes
 for drugs in the States
 have ya dodgin' niggas and caps
 he's with George & Clarence
 digging golf balls out of sand traps
 he's never seen Frisco or Oakland
 he got a glimpse of New York
 when he went to see the opera ("ahhhhhh!"
 he said me sicks getting senile
 if we live past 2-4
 we're due for
 a stay in the penile
 so see now
 we polish our Berettas
 but there's no boats or cane fields nowhere in the ghetto.

 "Tajai: Tell me who profits?
 DC got schemes, and we aint got spit...damn
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Author: Damani Thompson, John Owens (2)

Composer: ?

Publisher: Zomba Recording Corporation


Released in: 1993

Language: English

Appearing on: '93 'til Infinity (1993)

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