Hey, this team's gotta boss and lotsa members,
If you think it's smellin' odor assistin' with funk distaste.
Oh then I couldn't have it much better,
We live fast and nothing no never gets past the waste.
Oh no.

Skills I would not have them now if it wasn't for "The Plumber",
And I learned the game OK; The riled boys don't ascend.
And it's I never dealt to acquire, what these crews slick wore for attire.
And then I did crave, yeah.
That's why I'm reapin' the waste.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, reapin' the waste.

We roar metaphor hoots,
"In the bag" utters chat 'em with a "rueben meal".
Obsolescent talks with an off color blurt,
'Bout a light share of C-Notes.
He looks good in a cement jacket,
Then go you blind when some skell gets collared,
Like Nitti-Wop paid. oh yeah.
Next book a fresh guy named "Lucky" off some gents called "Tin Men".
Some "black hand" rogue clan that did owed twice what they shaved.
Whoa, they zoned their share to a pimp d'jour,
Like the rest of these Rom-eros in a permanent grave, yeah.
We're reapin' the waste.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, reapin' the waste.

I wooda a rust to dust; I got "Our Thing"
Just don't finger no Don; Stop your blood stream.
And don't lie to those Oldies what's hoodies,
'Cause those hood old ways are noways good,
And the moral is way badder it seems.

Learned "hit-maul" was a form of education,
Learned to "come out light" as they taught me how to bruise for pay.
Just short of breakin' necks was just enough,
They found the finance you spill some tough, on their day, oh yes they did.
You pound out a man and take Rolex watcho,
Weight an awful lot of late night drive-by dudes.
Banked a lot of shake down sway.
And then there was this puke named Earl,
Who he mated with a fair haired girl; The Don's "comare".
Oh yeah, now he's sleepin' REAL "late".
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, sleepin' real "late".

You know "waste management business" is good,
just don't borrow when it nobody sees.

They can find more reasons in the Holy Bible,
When we're goin' off site for "thru the eye" holed leer on a strayed.
Oh, they're gonna listen to this 45,
It's a wonder this fools still alive.
Just the mob's controled ways, yeah,
He's a memory, slayed, yeah.
I'm reapin' the waste.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, reapin' the waste.
You know I'm reapin' the waste, oh yes I am.
You know I'm reapin' the waste, oh you are.

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