Lyrics Heaven Help The M.F.'s - Stetsasonic

Heaven Help The M.F.'s

Struggle remembered by me and Stet members
Came close to death in '84 September
Hard times just to get on wax
Now the whack ones was on
Meanwhile we’re still waiting for a contract
Even all our contacts dissed us
And from experience
Imma have to discuss
The situation, in it’s entirety
Groups had records, ignore us and would try to be
Better than we was, like we was frozen
We would say peace, and they would keep walking
But you know what was the ultimate diss
Being booked on a show and told you’re not getting paid for this
Spending money, almost broke and
Riding the train so you gotta buy tokens
Taking the chance at the time (?)
Friends will rebel so there’s no one to lean on
Start with the teasin'
Say nigga please and, you never be successful
But they put us down without a reason
They would do it just for laughs
But the last laugh was done by us
Because we stuck to the path of rapping
Lips start flapping
Showing up to all our shows and start clapping
Like a blow pop went out like a sucker
Heaven help the motherfucker
The long ass lines and waiting out in the cold
But we on the guest list the ladies tell them
Who is Stetsasonic?
It don’t mean Jack
The front of the line?
We in the back
DB says fuck it and goes back to Middletown
The rest of the band?
Well we hang around
Long enough to find out the door’s closed
And no more can enter as far as the club goes
And so we leave
And we felt drained
We got no car, so we get on a train
We say to ourselves, that they’ll come a day
That we get on, and somebody’s gotta pay
So you ask me why we act so funny
Say we changed 'cause we got a little money
But we ain’t changed, we still the same
We just got wise and hip to the dumb game
Like some get stuck, and some get stucker
But those that stick Stet, heaven help the mother fucker
So you thought that we were soft and pink
That the Stet would fade away in a blink
Now let me tell you man, you’re losing focus
Thought up your ass, 'cause bogy you’re getting bogus
A type of sucker who once was a brother
For money, up the river he would sell his own mother
Mr. Big Dick, rapping for the big hit
Who wants the credit, but won’t work a lick
What did you bring to build for the long run
That’s how you’re living?
You’re going out son
Ho hum like all the rest of the bums
We kicking up dope drums, you’re picking up slum
So here’s the end to your sleazy sly
The perfect time to bid your ass bye-bye
And when you thought the Stet tale would end
We’re off and running
And the legend begins
Over and over, the burden we can shoulder
Stars that shine as bright as a nova
(?) keys man they keep the crowd swining
(?) flakers we’re not slaying
A rugged stampede and all out rumba
Again and again we’re back to crush the doubt
If you ever think to step to this sucka
A warning, heaven help you mother fucker