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    [Man]
    Do you ever sing a little song like this when you get up in the morning?

    [Singing]
    Dear diary, what a day its been
    Dear diary, its been just like a dream

    [Masta Ace]
    Aiyyo Ace, don't tell me your thinkin about a return
    I'm kinda concerned, when will you old cats ever learn?
    It's time to hang it up when you stand on your last leg
    when you don't right on the reg' and your future is past dead
    I'mma tell you cause none of these cats will
    You can't still try and rely on your rap skill
    You ain't got nothin behind you and believe me
    not a label out that gonna find you and wanna sign you
    Write your rhymes in the shower, you washed up
    If there was a law against wack shit, you'd be locked up
    These cats in the game pretend that they your friend
    but as soon as you walk away, they talkin about you again
    Half of your old group don't like you and wanna fight you
    and even made songs about you to try to spite you
    Big Beat dropped you and said that you can't sell
    and they ain't had a hit since before Pac was in jail
    It's like the shit is up under your nose and you can't smell
    hell, you probably older than Blu Cantrell
    You can't tell? It's over, captial O-V-E-R
    and that's just in case you can't spell, c'mon

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    [Chorus]
    Dear diary, what a day its been
    Dear diary, its been just like a dream
    Woke up too late, wasn't where I should've been
    For goodness sake, what's happening to me?

    [Masta Ace]
    Yeah I heard all of your prayers but I doubt that God got 'em
    So break out the suits and ties, and the hard bottoms
    and get yourself a job with a desk in a nice office
    and learn to enjoy all of the garbage that life offers
    And don't ever again show your face on the stage
    or write the name Masta Ace on the page, kid ya done
    Whoever let you back in the door should get a smack in the jaw
    'cause you sure shouldn't be rappin no more
    You already proved that at the Lyricist Lounge affair
    tryin to battle with rhymes you wrote on the way there
    Maybe next time you'll know not to play fair
    Say your best written shit and school 'em like daycare
    But through the sad mess and all of the bad press
    I can't recall a time in the past when you had less
    Ain't nobody out there who gon' keep it realer than me
    We one in the same sincerly, your diary

    [Chorus x2]

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