([>=-- id93838436 --=<])

[Intro]
MCs be fakin' so now they get taken
 
 [bad word] 
Fake MCs, they always act hard
But won't walk the street without they bodyguard
I hate fake MCs, they always act hard
But won't walk the street without they bodyguard

[Verse One]
MCs I lay out like stiffs in the morgue, praise the Lord
You're in awe when I'm grippin' the mic cord
Rhymes I rip with swift execution
One verse to coerce your girl to prostitution

The [bad word] is now the brother you fear and
Beware when I'm makin' hits with Premier and
Rollin' to a spot near you, lyrics tear through
Chrome to your dome you better watch your rear view

N**gaz been held back too long [bad word] #39; up
In the streets we roll alone so watch [bad word] #39; up
I'm summin' up a mad posse of warriors
Night [bad word] able to break down barriers

And bringin' faces of death puttin' MCs to rest
Until there's no fake chumps left [bad word]  step, yeah bounce n**ga bounce
My rhyme's a cargo when yours is just a quarter ounce 
 
 [bad word] 

[Verse Two]
Gang Starr boy and that's beyond [bad word] 
Mad brothers in every city you can feel the tension
To stop the killin' wack MCs must die, who am I?
I'm the substance that'll make your third eye cry

Too potent, too high in intelligence quotient
When I unleash my speech I'll have you punk rappers open
I won't expose your names and your identities
You know you're phoney get the f**k from in front of me

Hardcore fans are fed up from your folklore
Lines strip you raw and infect you like cold sores
And I hope you're not the one that I'm after
Since the days of Adidas I've been a [bad word] Master
 
 [bad word] 

[Verse Three]
I've been around punk but yo I still feel young
few of my crew members like to pack guns
I'm high [bad word]  but don't mistake me when I smile
I murder an entire rap chart with my freestyle

After the killin' just like casper I'm ghost
Fakes thought I was friendly, at their wakes I was host
Toast without a gun you'd be done, throw up your hands b**ch
And now you know you stand to lose one

Choose one metaphor and then choose another
Wax that a** like a bully have you callin' your big brother
Although I'm five foot eight they call me sargeant
Got more h**s in my d**k than you can fit in the garden

At Madison Square I shot a fair one
So many n**gaz knew me that the kid wouldn't [bad word] 
MCs pay cash to ensure their safety
They know they can't take me, the G-A-N-G, you crazy?

I be on them like a message from God
Knowledge of self while fake MCs play hard
 
 [bad word] 

[Outro 2x]
Fake MC's they always act hard
(I'm not a sucka so I don't need a bodyguard)