Artist: Fame Soundtrack
Album: Miscellaneous
Title: Tyrone's Rap


Lyrics: Don't need no rich bitch, to tell me which
 Fork to use, I paid my dues 
 In a rap-trap building called New York
 Livin' off beans, greens, and pork
 In a basement, tenement,
 
 no one's got to tell me what it meant
 To be black, jack
 Ace of spades
 All the car-wash washers and day-work maids
 Can't wash it off, it never fades,
 It's who you are until you're dead
 Now ain't that a kick upside the head?!
 
 Yeah, I know about Pryor and Portier,
 Can't get higher than Sugar ray
 Muhammed Ali and Doctor J
 And 90% of the N.B.A
 Reggie Jackson, Jesse Jackson
 Michael and Mahaliah Jackson,
 Now what's that got to do with me?
 On the street the only thing I see is:
 Crack dealers, pocketbook stealers,
 Coke snorters, Times Square daughters,
 Eight year olds who dance for quaters,
 And tokes and two-line blows
 New Adidas and stereos!
 That's us! Thats it!
 So don't be tellin' me all that shit!

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