Print

Had next after Pac died, right before Eminem The West Coast spitter, the East Coast consider 'em Synonym, I'm nice, A-Alike, "Anything Goes" With the Al B. Sure "Day or Night", "Miami Life", slay a mic Like Buster Douglas round ten, the money and fame Saw my piece of the pie but never ate a slice 'Cause I wrote "Nature of The Threat" and prolly paid the price Plus when the homies low-key jealous, they hate your life Deceitful cocksuckers, ungrateful motherfuckers I'm KRS, y'all just some part-time suckas, good night They told me fight the good fight But y'all suck whoever cock in the limelight And most of 'em don't even rhyme tight Call Ghostbusters, he don't even write his own rhymes 20/20 is hindsight, foreskin is uncircumcised That's a turtle-neck, not Kosher Open your eyes while I try to get your mind right Spat on my hands like Jesus Christ gave the blind sight How may mics did I terrorize? 100,000 on Twitter, still not verified? My nigga, this a sham, its rigged Rappers is hip-hop cops for the man, ya dig? What happened to hip hop? More insulting Now the underground don't respect skills if you don't go pop Ain't that some backwards shit, though? Like it jumping out the toilet bowl and squeezing back up in your asshole SongtexteLot of basic bars, beats just 808 Some of y'all so behind they prostate When I state, it's all state, you in good hands VIP on GP, I don't need a wristband Diamond D, don't call us OG, I'm not old school I will shoot up the whole school Get drunk off O'Doul's, piss in your Pro Tools UFC 229 with no rules I want to thank the fans, my friends and family For the one I'll never win, this my Grammy speech Huh? Wait, hold on I'm not finished Huh? Man, fuck that Yeah, this thing on? (Always tryna cut a nigga off) Ayy, let that nigga keep goin' Ayy, Ras, talk, nigga, talk And this for leaving 'Pac out the 10 Greatest Rappers List Whoever wrote that must of bumped they head and ate a dick Whole industry monopolized on some hater shit Shit is a sham, its glitz and glam Smoke and mirrors, say real shit, get banned Since master feed the artist, can't bite the hand You know you fucked up when you mic'd my stand So they unplugged me, un-loved me If I was a baby seal they would club me Suddenly convince you I'm ugly, unlucky, just fuck me But I'm lovely, ain't a rapper breathing above me Best lyricist, but so-called hip hop awards snubbed me Label mad cause I won't act like Buckwheat Tried to find another path to succeed, they obstruct me Industry execs on a smear campaign Assassinated my character and bashed my name "Ras a racist, he don't like white people" I don't like stupid-ass black or white people quite equal "He alcoholic" Yeah ask every producer, artist and engineer I ever worked with I'm always prepared, most professional, first in the booth With the best verse as the proof Fuckboys, I'm hurting your cooch So while you nominate who dominate charts But they don't write, can't sing, how you artists without art? These niggas is mascots Hiding behind brands, I be tearing they mask off Y'all Ronald McDonald's lip sync music Colonel Sanders, fake recipes frontin' like he produced it They hit sharks, all up in the studio lurkin' like "That song hot, let me buy that" Fake like he made that track, repeat that rap, wack! Then act like he a fucking egomaniac Yeah I'm talking to you ****, ****, **** ****, ****, ****, **** and **** So I accept this award on behalf of the true emcee-ers Whether the fans know it or not, they need us Industry won't feed us want us all living in Kias Or force black men to get rich dressing like Madea Shit, I keep it gangsta like "gyeah" WC, "niyah" My rhymes sick, chlamydia Middle finger in the air Music industry can shove it up your rear But a lot of y'all secretly into that lifestyle, fuck RIIA This is called gravity Aus Songtexte Mania