Taalam Acey - Market for n***as lyrics

[Verse 1: Taalam Acey] Ya'll should buy my CD because I used to sell crack Ya'll should buy my CD because I got shot three times, did a three-to-nine and all that [Hook] See, there's a market for n***as [Verse 2: Taalam Acey] There's a market for n***as that target figures and purchase $100,000 j**elry And, $200,000 automobiles don't fool me I know pain when I see it And he would probably give it all away if he hadn't signed his life away/ just to realize that a million dollars was a small price for them to pay/ for his dignity And I suppose if I earnt a hundred-thousand dollars a show/ that had already been spent on security, entourage, groupies, and blow/ it wouldn't be so sweet And I hope that Dead Presidents and Talib Kwali realize/ that it's not that black people don't like positivity/ It's simply that we often don't have the disposable income to purchase tons of/ CDs But, little-rich-white kids buy CDs ten at a time And the more ignorant the n***a,/ the more they get to piss off their moms So, if the song calls his mother or sister a b**h/ or says he's willing to k** his brother in order to get rich/ it just makes it even better The bigger the monkey, the bigger the money Just, throw cash at her--watch her take off her dress Just, throw cash at him--watch him expose his chest Somewhere y'all, right now there's a prostitute a prostitute sniffing blow/ in order to take her mind off the way she makes her living Somewhere y'all, right now there's a rapper sniffing blow/ in order to take his mind off of how he makes his living [Hook] But, but there's a market for n***as [Verse 3: Taalam Acey] And, and spoken word is the sh**, but poems don't buy big homes and poems don't light up wrists and it might be nice to make all y'all jealous of my bank account but what's more important, is that my mother's respect is priceless And it used to be,/ back in the days when you could cover your face with blackface and red lipstick And black people would hate you but you would surely get rich Just take a picture pokin' out your lips and eatin' watermelon,/ that would guarantee your show was sellin' But nowadays, if your effectively rappin' about gun clappin' or the black man/ say no more n***a--you platinum With half a dozen racist billionaires ready to back em' Y'all tell me how that city different then back then And, the more he shows his jaws the more he gets applause And that he's willing to play the role of society's savage Then society will make him a star [Hook] Because there's a market for n***as [Verse: 4] Just, just write some bullsh** There's money to be made in convinving black people/ that Jill Scott does not exist Because if a young girl doesn't know she's golden,/ she won't allow herself to be called no b**h Then--it's only common sense that,/ if you take away her self-confidence,/ she'll believe that droppin' it like it's hot for a soldier, is an accomplishment And, if it will increase a young man's chance of going to jail, they'll promote/ it I guarantee everybody, right now $1000, that your record will sell/ as long as it sounds like Willie Lynch wrote it Just, focus on being a stereotype, like/ you wake up every morning dying to fight Just, just snappin' pictures of stackin' riches/ and clappin' triggers, and slappin' b**hes You wanna get this started,/ f** your pride n***a--just act retarded You think I'm playing, as long as white folk got money [Hook: Taalam Acey] There will be a market, for n***as