[00:00.000] 作曲 : Chris Martin/D. Gibbs/Keith Elam
[00:01.121]Yeah you know them
[00:02.340]They accuse the righteous people of crimes and claim that we're wicked
[00:05.649]Stirring up controversy making us fight each other
[00:08.798]All the fake rappers make it worse they gotta pay
[00:11.198]Make 'Em Pay （Feat Krumbsnatcha）-Krumbsnatcha
[00:22.98]First and foremost some rappers are sweet like fructose
[00:25.68]When I cock back these lyrics y'all punks best be ghost
[00:27.618]I be the seven twenty-one eighteen twenty-one
[00:30.508]The illest one I'm almost doper than anyone
[00:33.598]Straight out the late nights of Bed-Stuy
[00:35.328]Steppin up y'all put your weapons up I make heads fly
[00:39.378]You're artificial like saccarhin
[00:41.408]You're crazy fake it's more than skills you be lackin in
[00:44.818]Concepts you bite cause your identity ain't tight
[00:47.18]Tryin to be somethin you're not like pullin a knife at a gunfight
[00:49.858]I'm troopin on night air like flight number 106
[00:53.108]And gettin all up in your ****in mix
[00:55.168]You get me upset and I got you uptight
[00:57.828]Cause my committee's in your city tonight AIGHT
[01:00.148]We got seventeen million of us plus two million Indians
[01:03.917]That makes 19mil lightin shit up like Wild Bill
[01:06.77]I be the supreme father plus the ill kid with drama
[01:09.237]My karma creates the teflon to pierce your body armor
[01:12.407]And make sure you check the shit before you walk to me or talk to me
[01:15.577]Steppin to me improperly you just may catch the weaponry
[01:18.366]My specialty is tearin tracks out the frame
[01:20.936]You know my ****in name I rule all game
[01:23.126]I'm universal on all planes what's your claim
[01:39.286]Yo I be your highness in slickness you chumps bear witness
[01:42.365]Tremendous tropper verbal nigga with the fitness
[01:44.905]Drop you for your spot with the blazer then I blast ya
[01:47.925]Slice precise like fenny hanas
[01:49.505]When I come to bring the dramas
[01:50.875]Styles so swift that you can't peep the God
[01:53.355]As your lyrics get buried six feet deep in my backyard
[01:55.635]I laugh hard while your mental I run through mazes
[01:58.815]Dark stages of terror to shatter your dressing room mirror
[02:00.685]Your whole error gets crushed your whole show gets bumrushed
[02:04.454]Too many dumb punks want to enter this rap scene
[02:07.354]Kickin Willie Bobo but need to be slapped clean
[02:10.462]Into oblivion the true champion always rises
[02:12.782]I bring surprises to the chief plus their advisers
[02:15.662]Size me up and you will find nothing's larger
[02:18.82]Catch more wreck on your dome than a deranged ****in barber
[02:20.932]So what you made some dough you best keep on scramblin
[02:23.262]All your vanity is instantly crushed when I start handlin
[02:26.461]Demandin that you pay for your weak rhyme display
[02:29.151]Coast to coast I break the fakes everyday
[02:46.250]I see myself as the black Rap Messiah
[02:48.459]Colossal spreadin my gospel through electrical wires
[02:51.338]Spit fire through speech so I can reach each and every
[02:53.938]Tom Dick and Jerry slippin like petroleum jelly
[02:56.148]Too busy in the limelight can't rhyme tight
[02:59.987]I got divine right to bring y'all to light
[03:02.257]Somethin ain't right to be an MC you gotta thug
[03:05.107]Or to thug you gotta be an MC this shit is bugged
[03:07.537]Show love but few;deal with crew and crew only
[03:10.237]And think universal like Sony
[03:12.747]Phony pounds and fake hugs is usually avoided
[03:15.427]Give a **** like Pizza Hut I got to stay Noyd-ed
[03:18.247]Cause that same nigga you trust could be that same cat
[03:21.126]Behind that gat that bust quiet ya with the silencer
[03:23.686]Keep it hush ashes to dust then dust to ashes
[03:27.315]Nowadays it's who pull out the fastest imagine this
[03:30.95]Rap shit without this gat shit or the phony cat
[03:32.945]In black talkin bout how much his Mac spit
[03:34.885]But this year GangStarr got changes bein made
[03:38.75]No wack shit bein played no fake macks gettin paid
[03:40.955]No Versace MC's with a mouth full of Mo'
[03:43.555]Soundin like a hoe spittin that old-fashioned show flow
[03:46.355]I bombshell that pastel Chanel rap through a Maxwell
[03:49.255]Ever since young Krumb was taught to rap well
[03:51.955]Goin deep process of thought when my eyes closes
[03:54.575]Awaken with interpretive robe and sandals like Moses
[03:57.515]Travellin high sands and Eastern lands for the answers
[03:59.885]Ignorance is spreadin through the streets like it was cancer
[04:02.985]Too many drinkin not thinkin when behind that trigger
[04:05.715]A 38escalate the murder rate for us niggaz
[04:08.415]It's like microphone roulette cause nowadays MC's is gettin wet
[04:11.774]Over someone else's fake gangsta rep

作曲 : Chris Martin/D. Gibbs/Keith Elam
Yeah you know them
They accuse the righteous people of crimes and claim that we're wicked
Stirring up controversy making us fight each other
All the fake rappers make it worse they gotta pay
Make 'Em Pay （Feat Krumbsnatcha）-Krumbsnatcha
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 ****in 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 19mil 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 ****in 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 with the 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 ****in 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 **** 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 38escalate 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