Yeah

Turn it up

That's right

For my niggas

Here we go



[Verse 1]

Some real niggas have gone away... never to return

Stay forever on wax cuz the mics they burn

Outta sight, outta mind, never does it mean outta might, outta rhyme

So I return to make it hot for those who cannot

Smile down on me niggas, while I rock the spot

Is there heaven for a nice emcee

Crushin all these suckers dear God don't be mad with me

I don't mean to hurt nobody, I just wanna rock the party

And give you a taste of what's left, before I see death

Watch a nigga back, cuz I don't trust nobody

Left hand hold the mic, and right bust the shottie

Sendin angels to guide me through, in the white drop top

When they ride me through

When I hit the pearly gates, will they take my tax

Will they let me rock the mic, will the beats be phat

Will the rappers write they own rhymes up in that piece

Will the fakes get locked by the cop police

Or will I have to deal with A&R's who don't got no say

I hope it don't be that way, tell me



HOOK 2X:

Who Knows Why

The reasons we live and the reasons we die

You can't figure this one, so why try

God help my soul as I testify

And I wont lie



[Verse 2]

Now as I'm lookin in the mirror I see myself

Handsome with attitude, so momma gratitude

I put the pressure on emcees

I make it hard for ya, with total, disregard for ya

This rap shit is raw not to be touched

The ingredients if tampered with, could get you fucked up

No one knows this secret I hold like Moses

Given at birth, now what it's worth, it's more than a million six

Let me spit it to you niggas, while my rhyme exists

Listen, separate the real from the wishin

If you bust at me and miss, you gon end up missin

Cuz on these rap niggas styles I be shittin, pissin

Leave you niggas lookin dumb like two niggas kissin

I'm the true hardcore underground messiah

I'm the kinda nigga street thugs can admire

You never see me gettin robbed, jumped down and whipped out

Or cryin 'bout a deal with no money, flipped out

I get off my ass and make it happen

I'll stick up the world if I aint rappin

So why do I exist, tell me



HOOK



[Verse 3]

May Allah shine down on any emcee

That'll stand on stage and hold a mic with me

May he give you all the flow of the ocean water

And some nice hand skills to prevent slaughter

My lyrics painful like bullets from a rusty tech

Bumpy Knucks, nigga what, and you must respect

All the true shit that I reflect

Niggas know I exist only to wreck

Won't let the verse loosen til you sign the check

I won't be fussin at ya, but bustin at ya

I treat all my rhymes like they devines

Niggas spot me like a UFO

I turn my mic on and resurrect the livest flow

So if you askin me, why am I here

To clarify hip hop loud and clear

Real niggas, tell me



HOOK