MCs be fakin' so now they get taken [Chorus] 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 my mic cord Rhymes I rip with swift execution One verse could coerce your girl to prostitution The Guru is now the brother that you're fearin' Beware when I'm making hits with Premier n' Rolling to a spot near you, lyrics tear through Chrome to your dome you better watch your rear view n***as 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 d**h putting MCs to rest Until there's no fake chumps left Run, step, yeah bounce n***a 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 k**ing 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** 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 k**ing 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**h and now you know you stand to lose one Choose one metaphor and then choose another Wax that a** like a bully have you calling your big brother Although I'm five foot eight they call me sergeant Got more hoes on my dick than you can fit in the garden At Madison Square I shot a fair one So many n***as knew me that the kid wouldn't dare run 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 [Chorus 4X] [Outro 2X] Fake MCs they always act hard I'm not a s**er so I don't need a bodyguard