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« on: October 16, 2008, 09:15:57 AM »
Krumbsnatcha on Make 'em Pay in the Gangstarr's Moment of Truth Album
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 f*** 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/
Whoa!!
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