Kool Keith - 6 Feet Unda lyrics

[Reverand Tom - Kool Keith] Carole Lewis, may you rest in peace Here today, we are giving a wake Reverand Tom, and a lot of you other people out there in the so-called industry, executives Major promotional people that have died and lost their lives I will throw a little sand as the Reverand and let's pray everybody, gather around Let's close our eyes for one second with a moment of silence I'm tired of you watered down figures Y'all major record company watered down minions Take what I create Ma**ive audience bite my innovative stuff and duplicate Casium trinity.. Cats are bitin me, all the hype and, big companies spend 8 million, videos recouped Your street team, retail hype and MTV and BET Rotation radio, you know you barely sold 100,000 Don't open your mouth, turn in your masters Your marketing plans, commercials and billboards Big ads the cover of Vibe Actin like you get paid, you haven't seen a check in YEARS Don't front, you face disaster deduction from your royalties Zero ratings, you lease Bentleys with no insurance Your contract is up it's time to check Mase You got the lawyer lookin at you on the next deal You're unsuccessful, Ampex reels I know how you fake n***az feel We will pray in church We will drop sand, we will burn you Ashes to ashes, dust to dust [Thee Undatakerz] Yeah, that's right We're gonna bury you six feet deep Six feet deep Ha ha, hahahahahaha! [Thee Undatakerz] Terminatin rappers contracts, careers are done No funds, obsolote, your bank statement read none Triple zero you dare, when freestyles get done Smokin sherm in cemeteries with Makaveli's son Deep conversations, got me watchin for hate This industry is full of jealous fake envious snakes I squash pretty flowers, take cash, take candy from children Run inside a bank broke and come out with a million f** hangin out with n***az runnin with problems come up Born in k**er California where n***az ride to come up And stay with real hustlers, livin phonies die to come up Look at these fake thug n***az tryin to imitate 'Pac You ain't a gangster cause you bounce in the trey with hood flags on Disrespect the city I'm from and get blast on I drag n***az names through the mud and the dirt Undatakerz love to cut a n***a in front of his mother We smother motherf**ers, no matter white or a brother Famous rappers found dead, nobody gotta discover ANYTHANG, we did it, don't gotta wonder You don't gotta discover no evidence, we did it! It's in your face (he's gone bury you) ha ha, y'knamsayin? Undatakerz (he's gonna dig your grave) [M-Balmer] I, I-I-I I heard it's like a jungle so I decided to send you under Two + three and one more that be me Make yo' head split - now that equals six! Got yo' number picked Got a few more stops to make before your final restin place Stretched out on a board, body cold in the morgue Coroner pullin off the duct tape Mortician tryin to fix the expression on your face But wait, Funeral Director, burial packets in his case Embalm the room, filled with tombs Fluid this I'm bout to lay down fools Make a call to the rear, Tommy get their walkin pa** Holdin his nose, put some chronic in the air Quotin scriptures (Undatakerz) And the last prayer (Undatakerz)