A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Masta Ace

"Ladder of Success"

Yes, the game {*echoes*}
Yes, uh

Let's make a move

"Here we go"

It's Phonte and K.O
Delivering that new born sh*t
This verse is a day old
So handle with care and keep your hands in the air
When I'm on stage
Hand in my face, doin' the Yayo
Soul seductive if you say so
But so productive cause I lay low
Back in the days before the laptops and trails
n*ggas had nothin'
Now it's cribs and trucks and fam on the pay roll
All cause we make the crowd say "Ho"
With no tour support or major label backin'
I mean without no up front money just back ends
Now the check is cut even before the bus back in
n*ggas see me in the magazines like
"Tay your verse was Murder Dog"
Funny, that's the first time I heard of y'all
And that's exactly why this track I put a hurtin' on
Until my ungodly flow have converted y'all

[Hook: K-Hill]
Ayo, we rose from the bottom now we major
Look at where we goin' now
Look at where we came from
Holes in the walls to the sold out palladiums
Grow, never fall, stand fall till we ancient bro
And to the fan base we gotta give appreciations
To the critics from the magazines and publications
To the DJs that spun our jams across the nation
Thank you for the loyalty, love and the dedication

[Masta Ace]
Truthfully, I'm glad some rap fans remember me
I read all the letters and e-mails you sendin' me
Honestly, the game don't feel like a friend to me
It feels more like I'm sleepin' with the enemy
Cause payin' dues really feels like a penalty
The sh*t feels like, a big waste of energy
Because cruel is what this rap game has been to me
That's why I'm bout to get out
Like it's ten to three
Every now and then
I do have the tendency
To treat my injury, and drink a little Hennessy
But I don't have an alcohol dependency
Some dudes do, from f*ckin' with this industry
That's why a lot of rappers smoke like a chimney
The game got 'em sick
They tryin' to find a remedy
In the meanwhile
From now til infinity
I'm gonna try to increase my wealth like a Kennedy


My verse is outstandin'
Punchline knock you on the canvas
Like I'm boxin' in the title bout landin'
Keep the crowd standin'
Come to see
Not for free
But dollars, the freestyler that spits without plannin'
Sold CDs on the road without scannin'
With cheap promoters, arguin' to get my man in
Focus in their Fujis and Canons
You see the fans in the background usually standin'
Words, Phonte and Ace
Give us a stage and dates
Explorin', tourin' the states like Amazing Race
Talk opening
My term and poetry is like a sperm and ovaries
Then in turn, you'll learn to grow with me
As old as we
Get, folks will be
Quotin' me
Socially discussin' each rhyme
And each lines potency
My first impression is good
I don't need no third
But I'm Words
I always need a second chance to be heard


Today they love me long time
Tomorrow, new rapper, new drink
New coat tails to latch on
New ships to sink
The game treat me like I used to treat my old flame
The irony
Left me with a bad taste, wrinkle my face and iron me
Okay that was a bad line
And sadly enough, I've been writin' a lot of those lately
The fans notice and they start to hate me
Damn it, I tarnish my track record
That hip hop song made my album a wack record
They used to cop my merchandise
At my shows
Spit my verse, word for word
Cult followers knew I was nice
But that wasn't enough, I had to take a roll of that dice
And cop nothing but a snake eyes and to my surprise
I returned home like the prodigal
Where n*ggas rob you
Haters do they damn best to abolish you
Chickens slobbin' you for nickle bags
Swear they trickin' you
Mad at them because the game tricked me
One song
No album
About 2:32
Which means somebody owes me twelve more minutes of fame
No album
About 2:32

Which means somebody owes me twelve more minutes of fame


A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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