Mac Daddy (Tru's Reality)

«I'm close.»
«That's what I thought.»
I want a mac
I want a mac, Daddy
I need a mac
I want a mac
I want a mac, Daddy
I need a mac
(Them apples don’t grow on trees)
I want a Macintosh laptop
Packaging so posh
Fits like a glove in that tiny little white box
Pretty as a picture but it ain’t all show
And at 8 ram deep I’ll be runnin' logic pro
To make my own beats, Dad
Keep me off the streets, Dad
And Xbox would even take a backseat
So please give me a job so I can stack that paper
(Rock the beat)
'Cause this is major
Yo, I’m saving for a laptop
And lookin' for some work
5 bucks an hour and I’m willin' to serve
Ain’t no job to U-G-L to the Y
I’ll do almost anything to make that macbook fly
Yo, I’d teach Judah to cross it over
Then play chess all day with Moses
I’ll take Leo to the Franklin fair
Dad, I’d even braid Marlee’s hair
(«Come on, man.»)
I want a mac
I want a mac, Daddy
I need a mac
So I can make my own beats
I want a mac
I want a mac, Daddy
I need a mac
Servin' up them Jesus Freaks
Show me how to do it, drop that beat
Show me how to do it, drop that beat
«So you really want to earn a mac this summer?»
«Yessir.»
«Music for the people.»
«Yeah man, we got that soul sauce…»
«Soul sauce!?!»