Pointing Fingers by Mase
Yo, only got twelve bars so let me cut to the chase
Fuckin' with Stase, I caught a buck in the face
I got the set me up, everybody's drinkin' Henney
Kid named Timmy actin' friendly
Grabbed her by offending, sure hurt 'cos his game didn't work
He didn't know the alcohol's about to get him merc
He tried to French kiss her yo, that's my man twin sister
Swung on him, but he threw the toast in my ear
I should have known he had people posted in here
So I waited till the coast was clear
And when he walked off, I put four in his rear, yeah, yeah
Yo, Hud is the type, give him an inch? He takin' a yard
'Cos see, he the type of cat that be thinkin' he hard
I told him if he gonna come, he got to come by eight
But Hud don't never listen what I say
He always do it his way, instead of our way
That's why he always caught up in some damn foul play
Talkin' 'bout I said at nine, he killin' time
And he ain't checked the time on his wrist
He probably somewhere lying to a chick
Talkin' 'bout he rich, no, it ain't right
How he gonna' leave my big brother Mase and jell overnight
He wouldn't sell us out or yell us out
But messin' with Hud, we ain't even get to bail him out
I can't believe this nigga Hud tried to blame it on me
We on the I-95, three jars on my seat
I'm hopin' cops don't be prejudiced, if not we don't eat
You know what that mean, shut up Hud, keep drivin' the jeep
We got about ten miles, we don' did ten states
I should have stayed, knowing Hud? He gonna' gas you to stay
I'm tellin' Hud, yo, pull over we ain't pissed since Penn State
The windows all foggy, plus we got temp plates
Now Hud steady streetin', not listenin' and yappin'
Smokin' Buddha straight from Cuba, 'bout to wish this ain't happen
I ain't tryin' to point no fingers but it's all Hud's fault
If he wasn't speedin' with no weed we would have never got caught
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