Lyrics Macula's Theory - Prince Paul, Big Daddy Kane

Macula's Theory

Aight, tell me this:
If you got 36 prostitutes, and 30 cents in your pocket
What you got?
Proof that hoes come a dime a dozen, baby
Uh huh, yeah
I mastered the craft on the way to keep em strung
The niggas wanna keep my name from off they girls' tongue
So many brag and boast and like to play high quotes
Always promising Thomases and can’t cook toast
Thinking that the macking game is just a fashion show
Not realizing that the rulers get the cash and go
Pull up a chair young and notice that the lesson that I’m telling, B
How to Be a Player better than Bill Bellamy
My tongue commits the felony, here’s how I gotcha
To do the things your momma told you not ta, I shot ya
Collect as much product as my mouth’ll get
And plus, I keep my game in order like the alphabet
Mr. Spectacular, better known as Macula
At this pimpin', a Legend just like an Acura
I lay down the law at the door moment that I get wit her
The female predator, et cetera, et cetera
Better to come on in, the hustle’s good, so why knock it?
Then watch the way I lock it, straight ballin, corner pocket
Anything goes when it comes to hoes, cuz pimpin ain’t easy
(«What you see is what you get»)
Anything goes when it comes to hoes, cuz pimpin ain’t easy
(Macula, he done struck again)
Ya stepped into the playin field, I don’t know what you’re thinking
Cuz game can smell game, and right now, your ass is stinking
Making my presence known, see, I only do it vague
Nowadays, playa-hating's going around just like the plague
But re-gardless, I’m on some play-hard shit
My body’s used to all them, I was on the graveyard shift
Survival of the fittest, now all you niggas try to get this
While y’all making love, I’m making love into a bid-ness
Now, what’s the matter, no confidence within your data?
I seen you tripping since I first started lookin at her
And if she peep, you know that she’ll creep
And if you sleep, then that’ll be just one you won’t keep, uh
Now, boy, you know you need your ass whipped
For holding on her hand as if ya goin on some 1st grade class trip
You feel unable, to keep her in your stable
As she listens to the bubbly that’s poppin at the next table
Life’s finer things, victory is mine again
Ya tryin to win, but gotta come way better than those Heineken’s
She feel amazed by the game that I be usin', and now she choosin
And you done came up as the one that’s losin
The smooth crimin-al as I muscle in
Grand theft hustlin, Mackula, he done struck again («Oh Lord!»)