Fake MC's (Album Version (Explicit))

Intro: They got a problem now know
I'msayin?
Too many corny rappers... know
I'msayin?
Pretenders, know
I'msayin?
Chorus: {2
X} Theres too many phony
MC's out there this year ya best to beware
I've burnt thousands already so get ready, lyrics are deadly
Verse One:
****** keep frontin, ain't saying nuthin
Killah Priest remains calm, yet carry on go ahead sing your song, claim you have the dons rap superstars look cute with your cigars ******* like that, where your mics at bite me
I bite back, plus
I break backs **** you, you can sue me, from yours truly ****** sound booty theres too many rappers in the east wanna be gangsters too many gangsters in the west wanna be rappers bunch of actors,
I ought to smack ya, who's your master sit down take a lesson, stop guessin for years
I had grace, saw your mad face it only shows bad taste runnin around like your delirious foamin from the mouth like you're furious
I'd rather be serious, it keeps the audience curious these fantasies ain't nothin for your fans to see it might cause casualties
Hollywood is not your neighborhood and if it is, give the mic to
Natalie Woods and y'all can be all to be the wizard the wonderful
Wizard of
Oz, which are the
A & R's and you a
Toto doing promos, along with the scarecrow you receive no dough
Chorus: {2
X} Verse Two:
I lay in the cut like peroxide looking at ya cock-eyed, cuz your music sound lop-side they sound tounge tied, butch of young guys, have 'em hung high watched they lungs fry, from the sunshine which is one rhyme generating from the mind
Killah Priest now late,
I terminate burn and break, and intimidate
I come cold as when the winter break
I put it into snakes, pretenders and fakes shake, like the earthquakes,
I judge wisely between two pillars of poison ivy for those that despise me, attach 'em to the
I.V. your pops should've bust you on the couch or sent you down the mouth next time where a condom, when
I step upon them
I make emcees memories, whenever theres a symphony
I look sinfully, been doing this for centuries
I write **** sick as
Shakespeare tripping off of acid roll at you like
John The Baptist with a rusty hatchet
I preach the word of
God before
I murder y'all swear
I never heard of y'all
Chorus: {2.5
X}