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Tyrones Rap

Don't need no rich bitch, to tell me which

Fork to use, I paid my dues

In a rap-trap building called New York

Livin' off beans, greens, and pork

In a basement, tenement,



no one's got to tell me what it meant

To be black, jack

Ace of spades

All the car-wash washers and day-work maids

Can't wash it off, it never fades,

It's who you are until you're dead

Now ain't that a kick upside the head?!



Yeah, I know about Pryor and Portier,

Can't get higher than Sugar ray

Muhammed Ali and Doctor J

And 90% of the N.B.A

Reggie Jackson, Jesse Jackson

Michael and Mahaliah Jackson,

Now what's that got to do with me?

On the street the only thing I see is:

Crack dealers, pocketbook stealers,

Coke snorters, Times Square daughters,

Eight year olds who dance for quaters,

And tokes and two-line blows

New Adidas and stereos!

That's us! Thats it!

So don't be tellin' me all that shit!

Tyrones Rap /

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