You could get the finger

Come and get some!!

The middle.

Aaaww yeah!

They love to point the finger.

Boom!Boom!Boom! on your black ass, bitch.

-Chorus repeats-



I thought I hit rock bottom,

Then my album point the finger.

I guess nobody loves a real nigga-slash-rap singer.

I thought I`d bring a little truth to the young troops.

I brought proof that the niggas need guns too.

It`s not to be a racist, but let`s face this.

Wouldn`t you if we could trace places.

I got lynch spots from the cops.

And till this day, the same motha fucka on the beats gettin major pay.

But whenI get my techa-techa techs out.

So, we prayin for these pigs to knock the blacks out.

Ain`t that a bitch.

Some officers`ll get rich.

Whoopin on thugs and robbin drug dealers for their shit.

As far as jealousy, being a celebrity,

No matter who committed the crime, they all yell at me.

And the media is greedier than most.

You could sell em your soul and they`ll be on ya till a nigga`s a ghost.

And everyday I read the paper, there`s another lie.

They show my picture for the crimes of another guy. Now how`s that for the life of a big shot.

A dead cop, a law suit, a little kid shot.

I play them funky ass marks in the park

By tryin to earn their stripes in the dark.

Just cuz I come here, don`t mean I from here.

Peep.

Only jealous motha fucka beef.

Point the finger.

-Chorus repeats-

As I run up on a mad man, a nut case with a screw loose.

A zoot troupe full of foolies with toolies.

Niggas run to me.

Don`t come to me with beef.

Take your jewels and your jeep.

Boom! Boom!, let that ass sleep.

It`s gettin hectic.

Niggas run quick.

Buckshots are the payback for dumb shit.

All you niggas on the block