Tell Me Who Profits

(album: 93 'Til Infinity - 1993)

Hmmmmm
I could give a damn about you and your crew
Everybody's frontin, ain't nobody bein true to
The things they say, they say...
(Man, I understand)
And...
(I got a plan for improvement...)
But you gets the finger
And I bring a attitude with me
'Cause brothers 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
Let's 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 ain't seen 'em in four years
You always had my number
So step with your poor tears
And what about Blessings?
(Plus is my man!)
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
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 math
I can fool with the school system
They take facts and twist 'em
Into knots, right up the blocks
A spot, to get a 40
Around the corner get cracks
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 get phat, and then we will
Get stacks of cash, forget class, yeah
That's the way to go, I'm out to get dough
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 nuthing without fat pockets
That's the only way to get paid
You tell me who profits

Tell me who profits?
I'll have G's
But you'll get shot, kid!
Tell me who profits?
I'll have G's
But you'll get shot, dick!

Huh! Ya gotta wonder, why niggas plunder, kill
Have ya torn asunder
'Cause I'ma build
And fill
A glass pipe full of crack
And black men's pockets be phat
A little
Let's whittle the way to the core now
Ya packing a Glock, macking the block, fight with the cops
Well, who ya taking the risk for?
A kingpin swinging with the president
Greasing 'em up & giving 'em papes for drugs in the States
Have ya dodging 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's seventy-six, getting senile
If we live past 24 we're due for a stay in the penile
So see now, we polish our Berettas
But there's no boats or 'caine fields nowhere in the ghetto
Yo...

Tell me who profits?
DC got schemes, and we ain't got spit, huh
Tell me who profits?
DC got schemes, and we ain't got spit, yo
Tell me who profits?
DC got schemes, and we ain't got spit
Tell me who profits?
DC got schemes, and we ain't got spit
Damn