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    MC's be fakin' so now they get taken


    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

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    Todas as letras de Gang Starr

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