Wasted talent

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)