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MC's be fakin' so now they get taken Chorus: Fake MC's, they always act hard But won't walk the street without they bodyguard I hate fake MC's, they always act hard But won't walk the street without they bodyguard Verse One: MC's 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 Guru is now the brother you fear and beware when I'm making hits with premier and Rolling to a spot near you, lyrics tear through Chrome to your dome you better watch your rear view Niggaz been held back too long we're coming up In the streets we roll alone so watch me running up I'm summing up a mad posse of warriors Night crusaders able to break down barriers and bringing faces of death putting mc's to rest until there's no fake chumps left Run, step, yeah bounce nigga bounce My rhyme's a [cargo] when yours is just a quarter ounce Chorus 4X Verse Two: Gangstarr boy and that's beyond your comprehension Mad brothers in every city you can feel the tension To stop the killing wack mc's must die Who am ? 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 fuck 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 true master Chorus 4X Verse Three: I've been around punk but yo i still feel young A few of my crew members like to pack guns I'm high strung but don't mistake me when I smile I murder an entire rap chart with my freestyle After the killing 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 bitch and now you know you stand to lose one Choose one metaphor and then choose another Wax that ass like a bully have you calling your big brother Although I'm five foot eight they call me sargeant Got more hoes in my dick than you can fit in the garden At Madison Square I shot a fair one So many niggaz knew me that the kid wouldn't dare run MC's 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 mc's play hard Chorus 4X Outro (2X): Fake mc's they always act hard I'm not a sucker so I don't need a bodyguard

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