Chorus:
 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 gripping the mic chord
 rhymes i rip with swift execution
 one verse to coherse your girl to prostition
 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
 i'm the substance that'll make your third eye cry
 too potent, too high an 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 folk lore
 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 [???]
 toast without a gun you'd be done
 throw up your hands bitch and now you know you stand to lose one
 choose one metaphore 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
 i'm not a sucker so i don't need a bodyguard