make 'em pay

first and foremost

some rappers are sweet like fructose

when i cock back these lyrics

y'all punks best be ghost

i be the seven twenty-one

eighteen twenty-one

the illest one

i'm almost doper than anyone

straight out the late nights of bed-stuy

steppin up

y'all put your weapons up

i make heads fly

you're artificial like saccarhin

you're crazy fake

it's more than skills you be lackin in

concepts you bite

cause your identity ain't tight

tryin to be somethin you're not

like pullin a knife at a gunfight

i'm troopin on night air like flight number 106

and gettin all up in your fuckin mix

you get me upset

and i got you uptight

cause my committee's in your city tonight

aight?

we got seventeen million of us plus

two million indians

that makes 19 mil

lightin shit up like wild bill

i be the

supreme father plus the ill kid with drama

my karma

creates the teflon to pierce your body armor

and make sure you check the shit before you walk to me

or talk to me

steppin to me improperly

you just may catch the weaponry

my specialty is tearin tracks out the frame

you know my fuckin name

i rule all game

i'm universal on all planes

what's your claim?

yo

i be your highness

in slickness

you chumps bear witness

tremendous tropper

verbal nigga witht he fitness

drop you for your spot with the blazer then i blast ya

slice precise like?fenny hanas? when i come to bring the dramas

styles so swift

that you can't peep the god

as your lyrics get buried

six feet deep in my backyard

i laugh hard

while your mental i run through mazes

dark stages of terror to shatter your dressing room mirror

your whole error gets crushed

your whole show gets bumrushed

too many dumb punks

want to enter this rap scene

kickin willie bobo

but need to be slapped clean

into oblivion

the true champion always rises

i bring surprises to the chief plus their advisers

size me up

and you will find nothing's larger

catch more wreck on your dome

than a deranged fuckin barber

so what you made some dough

you best keep on scramblin

all your vanity

is instantly crushed

when i start handlin

demandin that you pay

for your weak rhyme display

coast to coast

i break the fakes everyday

i see myself as the black rap messiah

colossal spreadin my gospel through electrical wires

spit fire through speech

so i can reach each and every

tom dick and jerry slippin like petroleum jelly

too busy in the limelight

can't rhyme tight

i got divine right to bring y'all to light

somethin ain't right

to be an mc

you gotta thug

or to thug you gotta be an mc

this shit is bugged

show love but few; deal with crew and crew only

and think universal like sony

phony pounds and fake hugs is usually avoided

give a fuck like pizza hut i got to stay noyd-ed

cause that same nigga you trust

could be that same cat

behind that gat that bust

quiet ya

with the silencer

keep it hush

ashes to dust

then dust to ashes

nowadays it's who pull out the fastest

imagine this

rap shit without this gat shit

or the phony cat

in black talkin bout how much his mac spit

but this year

gangstarr got changes bein made

no wack shit bein played no fake macks gettin paid

no versace mc's

with a mouth full of mo'

soundin like a hoe spittin that old-fashioned show flow

i bombshell that pastel chanel rap through a maxwell

ever since young krumb

was taught to rap well

goin deep

process of thought

when my eyes closes

awaken with interpretive robe and sandals like moses

travellin high sands and eastern lands for the answers

ignorance is spreadin through the streets like it was cancer

too many drinkin not thinkin

when behind that trigger

a 38 escalate the murder rate

for us niggaz

it's like

microphone roulette cause nowadays mc's is gettin wet

over someone else's fake gangsta rep