| G-G-G-G-H ain’t one of these fake MC’s, my bars are the truth
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| I got no PhD but I’mma be away eventually, I’m a star in the booth
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| Go round town asking the youth who’s doing this ting
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| It’s G-H-E double T and O, my mind works, how it’s so diverse
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| Why work when the fiends wanna buy work? |
| (x2)
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| I can see trouble ahead
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| I live life in a tunnel of death
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| It’s amazing I’m alive still
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| Ain’t aiming a 9 mill
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| Paving for a nice meal
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| I been patient and temptation is too much now
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| How can a man resist luxury?
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| I wanna know where the paper’s at
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| But I’ll be pissed if it’s custody
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| If a couple of Feds come for me
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| Then it’s back door stylie
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| But the back door might be covered already
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| And if so then escape’s impossible
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| But I keep optimistic I ain’t letting them stop my business
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| Let them in, «There's nothing illegal here
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| I ain’t got nothing to hide, it’s so obvious
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| Officer look, that’s all in my past
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| I’mma sign autographs, of course I’m a star
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| Performing’s an art!»
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to losing my freedom
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| Taking risks on a daily basis
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| All I wanna do is make tunes and release them
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to losing the plot
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| Taking risks on a daily basis
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| All I wanna do is put tunes in the shop
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| G-H ain’t one of these fake MC’s, my bars are the truth
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| I got no PhD but I’mma be away eventually, I’m a star in the booth
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| Go round town asking the youth who’s doing this ting
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| It’s G-H-E double T and O, my mind works, how it’s so diverse
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| Why work when the fiends wanna by work?
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| I really can’t stand you fake MC’s
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| I take laptops when I chase MC’s
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| I break MC’s over age MC’s
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| I guess you could say that I hate MC’s
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| I really can’t stand you fake MC’s
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| I take laptops when I chase MC’s
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| I break MC’s over age MC’s
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| I guess you could say that I hate MC’s
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| Uh, it’s times like this I don’t wanna be sober
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| It’s gotta be Jack D’s gotta be cola
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| Niggas wanna jack me, 'cos I stack Ps like a property owner
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| There ain’t no stopping me vulture
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| You won’t eat 'til I’m dead
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| As long as I’m alive I’ve gotta be a soldier
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| Ok, you’re probably older
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| But I know you’re soft like quality sofas
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| You know my policy, no guy’s robbing me
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| I’m serious like I don’t like comedy
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| Police are so devious
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| They wanna nick a nigga now for an '05 robbery
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| Don’t try follow me, I don’t like solitary
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| I hate authority, I’m a law breaker
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| All I’ll be about is more paper
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| So don’t ask for a favour, Show me a bader
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| I’ll make his homie a traitor, make his homie a stranger
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| Or so his throat don’t see a razor
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| Everybody knows I’m an uncaged animal
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| Like everybody knows zoning’s a major
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| I ain’t a parolee who won’t be a danger
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| I’m fearless like Steve from Australia
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| Crocodiles get tamed with the flamer
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to shooting a nigga
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| Taking a risk is bait in the bits
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| But that won’t stop what I’ll do for the figures
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to shooting a foe
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| Taking risks is bait in the bits
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| But that won’t stop what I’ll do for the dough
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| Different day same regime
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| 22 now, and I feel like there’s nothing I ain’t seen
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| Wha-gwarn for the rave scene?
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| It’s like the under 18's are deathtraps
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| I wouldn’t be shocked to find guns in a play scheme
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| To tell the truth I expect that
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| Some have got bodies on their guns
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| And still ain’t purchased a fresh strap
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| But on the other hand, some remain clean
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| Too prang to bang, too dumb to make cream
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| You ain’t had one war
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| What you got a gun for?
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| I’ve done more than you will in a lifetime
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| It’s real when I write rhymes
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| I ain’t gotta force it out
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| I got a nigga who bought an ounce
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| A year later bought a house
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| And survived all sorts of droughts
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| I’m the talk of the town
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| And I can see niggas walking around
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| Sporting a frown
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| I’m sporting a crown
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| It was meant to be it fits perfect
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| I spit sick verses, time on my hands
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| That’s what a little bird did
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| I never snitched like Curtis
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| Came out back to the bits
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| And jumped on the musical wagon
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| In the hood that’s the usual fashion
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| For big time rappers
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to losing my drive
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| Making hits ain’t making me rich
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| But that won’t stop what I do the mic
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| At least two times a day
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| I come real close to losing my love
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| Making hits ain’t making me rich
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| But that won’t stop what I’ll do the dubs |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fake MCs , by - Ghetts. Song from the album Freedom of Speech, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп