Suckas Need Bodyguards (feat. Melachi The Nutcracker)
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[Intro] MCs be fakin' so now they get taken
[Chorus] Fake MCs, they always act hard But won't walk the street without they bodyguard I hate fake MCs, they always act hard But won't walk the street without they bodyguard
[Verse One] MCs I lay out like stiffs in the morgue, praise the Lord You're in awe when I'm grippin' the mic cord Rhymes I rip with swift execution One verse to coerce your girl to prostitution
The Guru is now the brother you fear and Beware when I'm makin' hits with Premier and Rollin' to a spot near you, lyrics tear through Chrome to your dome you better watch your rear view
N**gaz been held back too long we're comin' up In the streets we roll alone so watch me runnin' up I'm summin' up a mad posse of warriors Night crusaders able to break down barriers
And bringin' faces of death puttin' MCs to rest Until there's no fake chumps left Run, step, yeah bounce n**ga bounce My rhyme's a cargo when yours is just a quarter ounce
[Chorus]
[Verse Two] Gang Starr boy and that's beyond your comprehension Mad brothers in every city you can feel the tension To stop the killin' wack MCs must die, who am I? I'm the substance that'll make your third eye cry
Too potent, too high in 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 f**k from in front of me
Hardcore fans are fed up from your folklore 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]
[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 killin' just like casper I'm ghost Fakes thought I was friendly, at their wakes I was host Toast without a gun you'd be done, throw up your hands b**ch And now you know you stand to lose one
Choose one metaphor and then choose another Wax that a** like a bully have you callin' your big brother Although I'm five foot eight they call me sargeant Got more h**s in my d**k than you can fit in the garden
At Madison Square I shot a fair one So many n**gaz knew me that the kid wouldn't dare run MCs 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 MCs play hard
[Chorus]
[Outro 2x] Fake MC's they always act hard (I'm not a sucka so I don't need a bodyguard)