Zakir Abdul Karim Naik (Urdu: ذاکر عبدالکریم نائیک; born 18 October 1965) is an Indian public speaker on the subject of Islam and comparative religion. He is the founder and president of the Islamic Research Foundation (IRF), a non-profit organisation that owns the Peace TV channel based in Dubai, UAE. He is sometimes referred to as a televangelist. Before becoming a public speaker, he trained as a doctor. He has written two booklets on Islam and comparative religion. He is regarded as an exponent of the Salafi ideology; he places a strong emphasis on individual scholarship and the rejection of "blind Taqlid", which has led him to repudiate the relevance of sectarian or Madh'hab designations, all the while reaffirming their importance.
Zakir Abdul Karim Naik was born on 18 October 1965 in Mumbai, India. He attended St. Peter's High School in Mumbai. Later he enrolled at Kishinchand Chellaram College, before studying medicine at Topiwala National Medical College and Nair Hospital and later the University of Mumbai, where he obtained a Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBBS). His wife, Farhat Naik, works for the women's section of the IRF.
We fight every night now that's not kosher
I reminisce with bliss of when we was closer
And wake up to be greeted by an argument again
You act like you're ten
So immature I try to concentrate on a cure
And keep lookin' at the front door
Thinkin' if I were to evacuate
You'd probably be straighter than straight
And wouldn't have so much hate
'Cause you don't know the pain I feel when I see you smilin'
And when I roll up you start wilin'
So I front like everything's hunky-dory
But it's a whole different story
You don't like the fact that I'm me
I don't put on a show
When it comes time for you to have company
And your friends don't understand your choice of man
They speak proper while my speech is from a gargabe can
But regardless, you shouldn't have to be so raw
I'm lookin' at the front door
I'm lookin' at the front door
Baby, I'm lookin' at the front door
I'm lookin' at the front door
And when you're with your friends, I glide to the side
Until the spotlight is mine and never sabotage a good time
But when they're not around, the fights commence
I'm the one you're against and it doesn't make sense
'Cause I'm the one that you claim to love for life
But all I get is gray hairs and strife
And I can play some ole stuck-up rapper role
And get foul every time you lose control
But that's not my order of operations
So I should win an award for lots of patience
'Cause that's all a fella can have
With a girl who's shootin' up his world like Shaft
And I don't think that I can take it anymore
I'm lookin' at the front door
My friends always tell me how I'm lucky to possess
The best looking girl in the whole U.S.
But every time you scream, you blow your finesse
Tryin' to dis the Profess-
Or twenty-four hours of acting sore
Sometimes I wish you'd come down with lockjaw
So I don't have to take in the breakin'
You treat me like a burnt piece of bacon
It seems like just two years
Back when we were bonded and not pierced
But now I keep itchin' to jet
Sitting' in the chair just to stare, set to sprint
Yo, sweetheart, you better take a hint
I say it now like I said it before
Verse One:
[blam] Aww shit, another young brother hit
I better go over my man's crib and get the pump
Cause to the cops, shootin brothers is like playin
baseball
And they're never in a slump
I guess when they shoot up a crew, it's a grand slam
And when it's one, it's a home run
But I'ma be ready with a wild pitch
My finger got a bad twitch, plus I'm on the switch --
-- side, and step up to the batter's box
Fuck red and white, I got on Black Sox
But let him shoot a person from the White Sox
What's the call? Foul ball!
Babe Ruth woulda made a good cop, but he didn't
Instead he was a bigot, dig it
My life is valuable and I protect it like a gem
Instead of cops gettin me I'm goin out gettin them
And let em cough up blood like phlegm
It's grim [blam blam] but dead is my antonym
And legally they can't take a fall
Yo check it out it's just a friendly game of baseball
Verse Two:
R.B.I. -- real bad injury
But don't get happy you're in jail for a century
Just as bad as bein shot in the groin
To see who'll shoot ya, they'll flip a coin
And watch him run for the stretch
But you don't know the man is at home waitin to make
the catch
So the outfielder guns you down
You're out, off to the dugout, underground
I know a cop that's savage, his pockets stay green like
cabbage
Cause he has a good batting average
No questions, just pulls out the flamer
[blam] And his excuses get lamer
Once a brother tried to take a leave
But they shot him in his face sayin he was tryin to
steal a base
And people watch the news for coverage on the game
Hmm, and got the nerve to complain
They need to get themselves a front row seat
Or sink a baseline for a beat
Cause television just ain't designed for precision
y'all
It's just a friendly game of baseball
Verse Three:
A kid caught on, but I don't know where the brother
went
The umpires are the government
I guess they took him out the game, and replace him
with a pinch-hitter, in the scam he was a quitter
So the cops usually torment, I mean tournament
Win em I was sayin
You can't let the umpires, hear ya speak and battle
like the other kid you won't be playin
Cause they'll beat you til your ass drop
A walking gun with a shell in his hand is their mascot
And when they walk around let it be known to step
lightly
The bases are loaded
My man got out from three strikes
In the skull but the knife he was carrying was dull
Instead of innings, we have endings
What a fine way to win things
And hot-dog vendors have fun
Sellin you the cat rat and dog on a bun
And when you ask what is all of this called?
It's just a friendly game of baseball
Ahhhhhhhhhhh ohhhh ho!
Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!
It's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) > repeat 5X
and that's all!
[Nas]
Street's disciple my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage I leave the microphone split
Play Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
Verbal assassin my architect pleases
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin Jesus
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causin hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the Main Source
Swimmin in women like a lifeguard
Put on a bulletproof nigga I strike hard
Kidnap the President's wife without a plan
And hangin niggaz like the Ku Klux Klan
I melt mics till the sound waves over
Before steppin to me you'd rather step to Jehovah
Slammin MC's on cement
Cause verbally, I'm iller than a AIDS patient
I move swift and uplift
your mind shoot the gift when I riff in rhyme
Rappin sniper, speakin real words
My thoughts react, like Steven Spielberg's
Poetry attacks, paragraphs punch hard
My brain is insane, I'm out to lunch God
Science is dropped, my raps are toxic
My voicebox locks and excels like a rocket
Aiyyo it's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
That's all!
[Fatal]
Fatal is merciful and they curse me
When I grip the mic I show no mercy
I got heart, I rip the party apart
from the seams and hem'up like bell-bottom jeans
but you get done, you get blues like 501
Brothers are live but I betcha I'm liver son
So let me get upon the scene and redeem
the dream of a team, and knock'em out like Mitch Green
Smoke some thai weed, flow at a high speed
Rap on off breaks stompin' like Northlakes
Cause I'm livin larger than the founders of Fendi
An Asiatic brother that many rappers envy
So round up your crew and entourage
And let the God Merciful just take charge
Aiyyo, it's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
And that's all!
[Akinyele]
Some of them said (said what?) that the Ak should quit
But I don't sweat it, cause I'm too big for that small shit
Like pigs when it comes to a showdown
Huff and puff but the Ak won't get blown down
Cause I come strong, rather than come at all and not be READY
That's what seperates me from the PETTY
MC's gas themselves by drinking too much GETTY
And get torn the fuck up like CONFETTI
I'm rich and thick, your lyrics like Aunt JEMIMAH
It doesn't take Keenan Ivory Wayans to know that I'MA
Get You Sucka, if you bite like a PIRANHA
So save them preschool rhymes for the kids at Wonderama
Point blank, period, with no comma
Rhymes so dangerous, call for the homi-cide
Cause I knock'em dead even when I'm at my worst
The only future that lies ahead of them is the lights from the hearse
Got game like a crackhead
But don't be mislead, I keep rappers on lock like a dread
Knots in the head from the words that I said
So get a shovel and dig your grave cause the shit you talk is dead
Aiyyo it's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
And that's all!
[Large Professor]
I grab up girls like jacks
Add'em on like tax, and I'm over like Hot Trax
As far as brothers are concerned a pressure cooker from start
To finish I diminish like a cuisinart
Secondly, I'm sick of critics, who's neckin' me
(Oooh he got an afro) yo, but I get dough
Why's my name the Large Professor?
Cause I milked your cow in other words I hit your heffer
Don't talk about how you can break Rambo
That's just a bunch of mamba-ja-hambo
Propaganda, save it for Savanda
Joe and Amanda, Zach and Alexandra
Don't let the folks around your way puff your head
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast
You'll be as crispy as my man Bill Blass
Aiyyo, like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
And that's all!
It's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
And that's all!
It's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
And that's all!
It's like that y'all (that y'all)
That y'all (that y'all) --> repeat 5X
[Large Professor]
Now I've never been one to knock the next man for getting his
You know what I'm saying? (Right right)
And I do realize that now hip hop is a form of showbiz. (Uh huh)
But this has always been something with which you have to be true
So in the year on 1992...(this is how we do!)
[Large Professor]
At the age of 19 heard the scene
A lot of M.C.'s that do not come clean
Fronting on dealing hard times in rhymes
You see him in the streets and you see no signs
Of the hell, and they get on stage and tell
Some cornball war story, ring the bell (word)
You're fakin the funk
Talking that extra hard junk, you're probably a punk
And Imma let you know, that this way
You just don't cut with the artificial flow
[K-Cut]
Knee digs out a great backs a next
When fakes try to front, they get smoked like blunts
My rhymes penetrate like skunk
Ayo word up, I think you're fakin the funk
[Large Professor]
You're fakin the funk! (You're fakin the funk)
Chorus:
Yo! You're fakin the funk! (You're fakin the funk) (Repeat 6x)
[Large Professor]
You do a song about a current event
Get on television and seem hesitant to represent
And that's what we call fraud
You can't kick the streets with a look I sold out a board (word)
And everywhere has streets
That's not trying to hear the same wack rhymes over the same stink beats
Cause times are real, and I can't feel
Putting...down on the reel to reel
[K-Cut]
Now Imma let you know
With those weak style of raps, it's time to go
I eject rejects that step
I'm a vet ready to snap your neck
I shine and rhyme at the same time
The mastermind of the sport called the rhyme
Now it's my time to dump chumps that front
(Ayo Professor what's up?)
[Large Professor]
You're fakin the funk
Chorus (1/2)
[Large Professor]
The era of the wack M.C.
Is getting shut down when the Main Source stomps through your town
Cause we don't play the role of a clown
And keep things jumping with the real rap sound
So to all the people stealing beats (You're fakin the funk)
To the crossover rapper with the pleats (You're fakin the funk)
To all the chumps that's claiming the streets (You're fakin the funk)
Fronting incredible feats (You're fakin the funk)
To the girl acting like a prostitute (You're fakin the funk)
Wearing that hooker type suit (You're fakin the funk)
To the rapper with the big space suit (You're fakin the funk)
To the artist that doesn't pay dues (You're fakin the funk)
[K-Cut]
Caue, exotic and then you're torn with the hyper tone
I can't be blown because my rhymes are hard like stone
So prepare for the scare, because I'm you're worst nightmare, punk
Cause you're fakin the...
(Peace!) Piece of what?
You can't mean P E A C E
Cause I've seen people on the streets
Shoot the next man and turn around and say peace
But that's leaving people in pieces
It's not what the meaning of peace is
To me it means the absence of all confusion
Not the oozing and brusing
That we're all so accumstomed to
Your friend got beef? I'll bust him too
What a brother from a certain way of life explained to me once, dunce
He didn't realize the fact that
He and myself were brothers on the same rope
Now last month he got hemmed up, huh, that's all she wrote
So I can get up where she left the exclamation
Looking for an explanation
Little kids think that peace is a word that you use to sound down
And I frown
Cause that's what I was told at eaight years old
And now I'm trying to break the mold
So stop the dominoes
I think it's about time that everyone knows
The incorrect usage of the word "peace" has got to cease
Stop frontin (Stop frontin) Stop frontin, like you know what I'm saying
"If something is yours by right
then fight for it or shut up..."
Si a que estamos con Main Source con El Profesor Grande
Sir Skratch and K Cut y vamos a late los rappers
y no puede en casa
Rappers can dance sing and shake their thing at the same time
But can't rhyme
They probably think that as long as they gettin paid
they can sleep in the shade but they'll fall like a cascade
While I drop skills over drum fills
They'll try to pick up some, and still sound slum
Cause they didn't learn the fundamentals
at this, and I insist that they get dissed
For fraud, their weak rap tunes keep me bored
Sword, due to the type of bullshit they record
Hey and I make em concentrate on the songs I create
And kids can't wait to get they fork knife and plate
So they can chew what I serve with the nerve
To call themselves real, but I know the deal
So I just place all the cards on the trap
Tell them to cut the crap, now let's rap
Si, a que estan allegrando de esos rapid que
sepatan muy grande, que no sabe lo dice haciendo
por no se con fat, pero El Profesor el es sabo
de casiendo, y entien la musica muy buena
y cucata estaba con grande como eso
espendejos sepatan muy grande por alli
y Sir Skratch and K-Cut ellos que estaba DJ
muy bueno. Con sabo por diciendo
Now all you rap clowns let's go the seven rounds
And put down your imaginary frown
Or take it to the streets, with multiple beats
Get as loose as you want, flaunt, no beeps
This time when you rhyme it won't be for a rock show
It'll be on the block so
we can work like strainers, or filters
And find out all remainders and the best builders
Cause so many MC's get star struck
Get on stage and find out that they're washed up
Cause some new jack took em out
But they was sleepin so what's the surprised look about
It ain't hard to tell that your records sell
because your rhymes smell and people scared
of a brother that drop the bombshell
So to show and prove the fact it's, important that you
come and show your tactics, ASAP, let's rap
Ah, que estamos hablando hora de los rapid que
setamos bien de lo calle, y que estan de la
tando de campias un cancione, no sabe por
haciendo. Pero que yo sabe que Main Source
ellos son yan de pierdegre. Quien no en calle
que es la musica por la calle, pierde, OK
Okay
Terror on wax, Large Professor K-Cut and Sir Skratch
Kickin it to kids that can't latch
on, to the meaning of a real rap song
Just producing corn, I like to warn
We build it up dis far without sellin out
And still got clout
So you continue to sell and be a sap
And when you're ready to snapback I tell you
Let's rap
Si, porque la esas estamos pidando
y estan estampo que campien la mente
ello pero que, asi lo de la ante
que, effe fiete hora, tiende, pero de la gente
ya no mesti con soul, OK? Voy a que estamos
(Peace!) Piece of what?
You can't mean P E A C E
Cause I've seen people on the streets
Shoot the next man and turn around and say peace
But that's leaving people in pieces
It's not what the meaning of peace is
To me it means absence of all confusion
Not the oozing and brusing
That we're all so accumstomed to
Your friend got beef? I'll bust him too
What a brother from a certain way of life explained to me once, dunce
He didn't realize the fact that
He and myself were brothers on the same rope
Now last month he got hemmed up, huh, that's all she wrote
So I can get up where she left the exclamation
Looking for an explanation
Little kids think that peace is a word that you use to sound down
And I frown
Cause that's what I was told at eaight years old
And now I'm trying to break the mold
So stop the dominoes
Because I think it's about time that everyone knows
Peace! But everybody's in terror
We're going back to the caveman era
Where people got killed, without the chance to build
Shame how the plane is filled
With so many so-called intellects
That can't use a word in its proper context
Needless to say I'm vexed, so what's next?
Peace! It's not the word to use
When at the same time you got the plans to abuse
Folks not on their P's and Q's
I'll see you in the news
Somebody screwed up the diction
You might die looking for the right definition
Cause "peace" nowadays means "gun," or "gotta run"
30 years from now we'll wonder how the younger generation got foul
Look at what we teach them today
Peace is not the word to play
Ayo, corny or not, we gotta stop saying "peace" and not meaning it
Know what I'm saying? Main Source forever, y'all
Peace is not the word to play
Main Source forever crews got to get more clever
Whatever just have your shit together
Cause it's '91 which means not a thing
Cause for centuries we'll make crews sing
No matter what record label we stay stable
Pick up the album we're never on cable
Crews cross over but not Main Source
I use Simon's guitar strings to floss
Brand New Heavies play the shit that people
Used to listen to in '70 Chevies
So we don't have to loop up a beat to fuck your crew up
Just bring the band, by the way we got Jan
On the drums, Andrew plucks the bass with his thumbs
And Simon, like I mentioned before, just strums
The guitar strings for all my siblings
Just follow when everyone sings
Brand New Heavies (Brand New Heavies)
And Main Source (Main Source) (Repeat 4x)
Ayo, wait a minute
We got the Heavies in the crib putting the funk back in it
And if you know the Main Source, then you know my man K-Cut
And him and Simon is going to show you what's up
(K-Cut scratches)
I can't forget the other man on the scratches
Sir Scrathes, like his hands are two hachets
While Andrew plucks on the bass
I'm gonna let my man Sir Scratch drop taste
(Sir Scratch gets busy)
Ayo, now everybody sing
Brand New Heavies (Brand New Heavies)
And Main Source (Main Source) (Repeat 4x)
Just an example of how rappers don't have to sample
To keep the funk beat on the street
Slide to the side when the Source and the Heavies collide
Bonafied Funk for ya hide
To wiggle, making beatheads uncivil
Turntables swivel as the rap crews shrivel
Away, like a fiend with tooth decay
Peace is not the word to play, hey
Brand New Heavies (Brand New Heavies)
And Main Source (Main Source) (Repeat 4x)
One time it's the...
One time for your mind, one time for your mind
We all know Roger Roger lives in Queens
Brooklyn Manhattan the Bronx and he fiends
For knowledge and people try to diss him because of that
Surrounded by the ghetto plus the fact that the brother's black
But Roger gets high grades on tests
He smokes brain cells to rest
But brothers jel on him because he has a goal
And gold awards hanging all off the brain pain
Behold Roger doesn't fight, his brain is his left and his right
But if tainted, he just might
So all you brothers flying with a broken wing
Watch Roger do his thing
Roger graduated from high school
But didn't advance or enhance no scholarship, cool
Flip, he did not, he got a job at a parking lot
Teased because he wasn't making G's at a crack spot
He started meeting the people with the high ranks
Attained a job as a manager at a bank
Roger started rolling a Benz
Had a bunch of rich friends and that's where his ghetto life ends
He rolls around the projects he lived in once in a while
Sees the brothers that was jelling and cracks a smile
They have rings, but he has a ring of keys
And D's, and now my man Roger is worth G's
He doesn't have to rap or sing
He has to think, so watch Roger do his thing
Roger has diamonds like I have lyrics
Always in good spirits, and money's never made
"Its hip to be suqare" is Roger's main motto
Cash coming out of his ass like he hit lotto
He reminices on all the bad years
Remembers his fear and smiles ear to ear
Counts a knot and goes to ?Backa Jaluts? to eat
Hogo Boss on his feet smelling sweet
Gucci frames and all the high class names
Stetson suit clean on the scene laying down game
You can't cramp his style, he's as sharp as the tip of a nail file
You're going to fail, child
Check him out while he plays with his ring
Watch Roger do his thing
Roger's a Cassanova now, he's swimming in women
A symbol in sex messing with their intellects
Throws parties every week in his happy home
Out on the island and stays smiling alone
That's his style, macking skins and laying girls like towels
Not acting wild
Question: Roger's life seems complete, right?
That's what an education can and might do
It may sound corny but it's true
Roger does his thing and so can you
So get your head out the sling
Set it off, set it off, set it off, set it
Set it off, set it off, set it off
[ Jay (later Jadakiss from The LOX) ]
I'm sayin 'WHAAAT?' to niggas that act like wreck
When I flash the Tec and hit a nigga in his neck
With two slugs, blood is a sign of vic
And if his bitch wannna snitch she can bite the dick
That's my word, anything goes for the hoes
I'm snatchin rings, earrings, jewels and clothes
From the ghetto, tryin to get my hands on a ki
So fuck Mike cause niggas wanna be like me
They think I'm crazy, nigga, like a bag of dust
I don't listen to the fuss cause I'm tryin to bust
With the muthafuckin BM drop, 325
By the way, me and my crew, we real live
Get absurd and hit a nigga with the bloody birds
Niggas can't fuck around with the bloody words
[ Sheik (later Sheek from The LOX) ]
Aiyo, watch buckshots at midnight like I'm a fuckin crook
Do stick-up's, head north, get the cash and book
I make ends but it depends on my type of vic
If it's a dealer the Tec-9 will gun him quick
Who's to say if I want, money, and if I will
I let it rip and up close so watch a temple spill
Mad blood everywhere but who says I did it
Bullets stay caught up in my gun, they wouldn't fit it
Cause I'm blastin with a cannon every fuckin hour
22's don't work, I need the double power
Watch your back for the wall, Lox hit the street
And stay low for the stray bullets pass your meat
Mad young but I don't give a hoot
So I just pollute and kickin heads with the fuckin boot
So put your dicks up, money, or head north
Or head for the border from a squad decide to set it off
Set it off, yo, set it off (4X)
[ MC Lotto ]
I know you niggas don't want drama cause I'ma tear that ass out the frame
I was born insane and surrounded by the drug game
It ain't a damn thing changed, I still chill
With the Glock on the block tryin to make a mill
Niggas is done for fun, so don't test, son
I find a victim and stick him and move to the next one
Serial killer, but I ain't after Captain Crunch
I murdered the Brady Bunch cause I'm out to lunch
Lost my brain in the drug game, I love to do the wrong thing
I make g's from sellin ki's of cocaine
No judge can judge me, police can't touch me
Watch out, shit's about to get ugly
I got the Tec, so respect the Main Source
MC Lotto, yeah, I came to set it off
[ Shaqueen ]
Yo, watch the evil spirit rise when niggas get me fed
I slash a bitch and leave her weave up in a bloodshed
A heartless bitch with a switch givin bitches stitches
I got a backyard full of fuckin dead snitches
And plus this chicken's throwin lickings comin from the mental
No shame in my game, I'm aimin for your fuckin temple
And plus I'm comin equipped with the mad styles
The niggas I kill will go down with y'all profiles
Yeah, you bloody roughneck, my style damn good
The shit I kick is takin muthafuckas' manhood
So all that shit you plan on talkin yo, you won't be able
So watch your mouth before you catch a fist that rocks your cradle
And now you know my state of mind that I'm lettin off
And anytime that I rhyme I'm gonna set it off
Set it off, yo, set it off (4X)
[ Mikey D ]
Yo, back the fuck up before I catch a body
I'm givin niggas boxers and that's includin muthafuckin hotties
So get your pistol and your posse if you think you could stop me
I open em up like a autopsy
I got a crew of niggas waitin for the combat
If we can't get you we steppin where your mom's at
So all that rah-rah shit gotta cease, I pop my leash
If it's beef you ain't leavin in one piece
I drink a forty and I take over 40 Blocks
Niggas with Glocks give me props, they say, "Shorty rocks"
From 40 Projects to 40 acres and a mule
Knock out a 40, then I'm knockin out 40 fools
If they ever try to get with the nitwit, forget this
The hitlist and cripplin the witness
I gotta get it off when I let it off
Straight up and down, muthafuckas, I set it off
(Verse 1:)
Now I'm a flip the track and bring you back to reality
I'm like Wesley Snipes, I act without a salary
Cause I don't need nobody sayin "Lights, Camera, Action!"
I act on reaction
Fuck what you see on television
Cause nowadays all of us live in the hellavision
On every single channel it's the same old sane
Brothers' poppin their brain
Or gettin wrecked at a soccer game
Six brothers fallin victim to the street
After mad ? tribe vibes rollin in the black jeep
Every other channel spent its money on the talk shows
From Oprah to Horazo, everybody in New York knows
But when a brother gets real
They make the story opposite
And try to offer niggas raw deals
(Chorus:)
Television tells lies to the vision
The world's a prison
We're livin in hellavision
(Verse 2:)
Every day your lie to me is drama
But not the type of drama that my T.V. shows
Because it makes the drama calmer
When a lady's caught cheatin
She sets with the next man
And doesn't even catch a ass-beatin
Reality check - that's what the T.V. said
Cause in real life it's two to the fuckin head
Samedy Sam fillin bugs with slugs
Wild ? is cookin up these deadly drugs
Bart Simpson is cursin up for storm
And children love this shit man, come on
I see kids that say bringin guns to school
Ten year old crack heads and that ain't cool
My four year old daughter curses worse than Bart
Straight from my heart, it's tearin me apart
(Chorus)
(Verse 3:)
And now, hip hop is labelled as a violencer
Like everyone who rhymes packs a gat with the silencer
Every other ? hip hopper goes to prison
Over some dumb shit or for the real life livin
But who's to know what we've been goin through
When all you see is one side of us
The side the T.V. be showing you
You never hear about the stress or the work
Or the hard times we had or hip hop was getting jerked
You only see us in the limelight
But when the night comes, we're always linked to crime, right?
Man - what I've been through is strife
Yo - they could make fifty movies of my motherfuckin life
And there's a million like me
The people you don't see
When you watch your everyday T.V.
Its that nigga Gz WheeZ
back for the 9-c
I ex sippin on the yak so people wanna know whats next
ain't nuthin changed, another day a new time
with this uptempo beat with the G-Funk rhyme
regulatin state to state, coast to coast
its all about the call of greens, yak, lets toast
cuz its a ballin society
I try to be the dopest I can be in this industry
but you dont hear me
I think ya betta, I think ya betta
cuz when I, get it goin on I ain't gonna let up
I set up, the g-funk family and we
funkin up the industry until eternity
its alright with you if its alright with me,
we'll get down to the sounds of the LBC
My 4-9-3-11 has fleas cause when I'm kicking the lip service
Someone signs up to rush the potteries
It's automatic and apparent that we have skills in this
But people tend to miss when we shoot the gift
It's not to imitate another in minute
That's slouch life to crush a bad gimmick
We like to shoot the breeze the Main Source way
We don't portray another and never will perpetrate any horseplay
Meaning that if there's a special request
For the Main Source to bite, don't hold your breath
Routines are the lessons, any questions?
We're kicking essence, the Main Source breaks the atom
Since I'm part of the Source others try to find a lunch
And the passengers kicked by me, but I don't crunch
They know what I publish ain't rubbish, it's soon to fit a day
I fine tune kids, two tutor and away
They go through my book, look, pick and snatch
But I can understand cause they create chicken scratch
The center of attention, kids keep snitching
Phoney like an extention, trying to front like they gain attention
But at the same time dumbfounded
They started idolizing the Source as soon as the drums sounded
The Actual's intervened to tell you that I'm...
The Main Source breaks the atom
We're not the best cause no one should be considered a champ
We're the Source and so-called comp will receive a stamp
For playing participation and also for being nosey
The camera's on you, chief, so don't blow it Holmes
By looking and peeking cause if you understand Hell
As quick as I give you howdy I bid you farewell
You'd better think before you break cause if you step to us
That'll be the very last step you take
Consider yourself the outer shell of a dungling part
What we write will bang in your heart
Grab your place in line, get your application signed
Ayo, straight up and down on the reel to real, if you
drug abusing child abusers don't get your shit
right now, your children might grow up like this
He was born in a jail cell, cause his mother was a con
And in his mother's cupped arms was a newborn timebomb
But it wasn't his fault he was in the cageed vault for aggrivated assault
On his eight-year-old sister
As Mr. Daddy stood there, instead he should have dissed her
And now mommy's found guilty
Cause she almost beat her daughter to death for spilling a glass of milk,
Poppa was a boozer, momma was a drug abuser
They were no-win losers
And now Sonny's gotta struggle
And another day of life to him's another day of trouble
You gotta live this life for you to try and understand
The diary of a hitman
The diary of a hitman
Sonny's making money on the norm and you know he's got another job
When you see him with the leather gloves on
He got a look in his eye like he wants to die
Packing the nine double murder near his thigh
10 G's a head, whoever you want dead
Will be filled with lead, and be buried in their own red
He don't sleep at night, cause he's just like an owl
On the prowl and his lifestyle's foul
A self-made boss in the ??? of his moms and pops
Is what really ticks him off
A flashback from the past, dad whipping mom's ass
For the cash, after that she hit the stash
And takes a blast of the trash she was hooked on
And Sonny felt helpless, as he looked on
You gotta live this life for you to try and understand
The diary of a hitman
The diary of a hitman
Sonny got a call from the mob
It was 100,000 grand for my man to do a quick job
The contract was plain and simple
One in the mouth for talking, then two to the temple
The address looked kinda funny
But Sonny didn't care who was there, cause he was in it for the money
He made his way to the crime spot, the victim
With nothing on his mind at the time but to get him
He arrived at 10 o'clock and didn't even knock
He just shot off the lock
And he kicked the door open
Destined to smoke him, nope, Sonny wasn't joking
He made his way up the stairs, and there's
Mommy in tears, and daddy in fears
But he didn't give a damn cause he never had a fam
So now it's time to silence the lamb
Momma took the first three, so now she's living drug free
Cause she's put out of misery
And Daddy's on his knees yelling "Please Sonny please"
But Sonny squeezed
You had to live this life for you to try and understand
The diary of a hitman
Yeah, I pump it up and I don't quit for jack
I'm back to rap on wax so guess who's back
The chart hitter, not a quitter or a bullshitter
These cats know I'm the best one out the litter
Yeah, they talk, but they be talking diarrhea
Cause none of em got the capability to be a-
Nother Mikey D cause I ain't having it, kid
You can do what I do, yo how the fuck you biddin?
I've been through wars and I came out untouched
I'm too much, whenever the microphone is in my clutch
I get props, I get stopped by the cops
That's how it is hops, when my tape's in a box
I've been through crews like a ho
And took em out, I always let niggas know
I keep the soul cause I'm a lyrical pro
I play it mellow, word em up, I'm on the down low
Know what I'm saying, shit is real, G, I'm on the down low
Gotta represent in '94, I'm on the down low
K-Cut and Sir Scratch, LTD, shit, we on the down low
Coming up with motherfucking platinum shit
You know what I'm saying?
You know with Mikey D's freestyles is rougher than a rapper with practice
I'm fantastic, true meaning of what bad is
15 years on the scene, could never fall back
A small pack, you're fucking right, I think I'm all that
You know a nigga with a doubt?
You can bring him to my session and watch me take him out
He'll RIP when I rip him and I stick him
In a bodybag then I'm gonna zip him
I'll throw him in the ocean, and watch him sink
Cause he shouldn't waste ink on them rhymes wasting time
Cause them rhymes stink
Mikey D's reanimated and these other rappers hate it
I got skills, they can't fade it
I keep the soul cause I'm a lyrical pro
I play it mellow, word, I'm on the down low
Twin Towers in the house, on the down low
Word up, Shaqueen in the motherfucker, she on the down low
Different Shades of Black in the motherfucking house, on the down low
Word up, everybody out here is on the down low
Know what I'm saying, my man Monte, laurington nigga, he's on the down
MC Lotto, Bomb Squad, all the motherfuckers I know, they on the down low
Rick motherfucking C-O, Red, Mark Miller, they on the down low
Boom bashing in '94, know what I'm saying
Everybody in this motherfucker's on the down low
We on the down low
Sir Scratch, he's on the down low
K-Cut, on the down low
Man, I had soul since I was negative three months old
When it came to getting down I was bold
Kicking steps until you had to put my ass in a choke hold
And damn near wouldn't fold
Check the picture with the apple jack hat
My father even taught me how to skat
So I developed the skat into what we call rap
And get nasty at that
Getting loose is not a problem, it's getting back together
I pull girls like a lever, I get tired
Bring the coffee to my lips and watch the Large Professor do backflips
He got so much soul, he don't need no music (Repeat 4x)
I possess skills in the field of rapping
So get down cause I make it happen
Pop with a limp, low pro pimp
I make other MC's mope
Cause their skills ain't developed like negatives
Throughout the years, I've done mega kids
So don't fix your mouth you say I can't handle
I got more sole than a sandle
Cooler than a liter of digital soundproof
I raise the roof (Ain't that the truth)
Got money in the bank, baby pah, I'm a star
He got so much soul, he don't need no music (Repeat 4x)
I rip rappers up like a card
(Yo Large Professor I want to battle)
Man, you're sorry
I'm part of the Main Source
And we eat DJ's and MC's as the main course
For dinner, lunch, brunch, you better break fast
Cause I'll eat your whole bunch
Or crew, your girl's stuck to me like glue
Cause I kick it like a class of kung fu
I use a pick in my hair without force
You use a lawn mower, you got peat moss
Growing on your dome, that's why you're so dumb
I'll eat you like a plum
Messing with the brother on the beat
I share the rhymes that are kicking like feet
So don't let me start, holmes
Because I'll pull your chart
(Peace!) Piece of what?
You can't mean P E A C E
Cause I've seen people on the streets
Shoot the next man and turn around and say peace
But that's leaving people in pieces
It's not what the meaning of peace is
To me it means absence of all confusion
Not the oozing and brusing
That we're all so accumstomed to
Your friend got beef? I'll bust him too
What a brother from a certain way of life explained to me once, dunce
He didn't realize the fact that
He and myself were brothers on the same rope
Now last month he got hemmed up, huh, that's all she wrote
So I can get up where she left the exclamation
Looking for an explanation
Little kids think that peace is a word that you use to sound down
And I frown
Cause that's what I was told at eaight years old
And now I'm trying to break the mold
So stop the dominoes
Because I think it's about time that everyone knows
Peace! But everybody's in terror
We're going back to the caveman era
Where people got killed, without the chance to build
Shame how the plane is filled
With so many so-called intellects
That can't use a word in its proper context
Needless to say I'm vexed, so what's next?
Peace! It's not the word to use
When at the same time you got the plans to abuse
Folks not on their P's and Q's
I'll see you in the news
Somebody screwed up the diction
You might die looking for the right definition
Cause "peace" nowadays means "gun," or "gotta run"
30 years from now we'll wonder how the younger generation got foul
Look at what we teach them today
Peace is not the word to play
Ayo, corny or not, we gotta stop saying "peace" and not meaning it
Know what I'm saying? Main Source forever, y'all
Yo I heard my man told his girl that he's going to jump off
the roof for her cause he love her. Now that is funny. That's
funny. You know what I'm saying? I did not live 19 years to
throw my life away for some girl that I just met last year. Yo
fornt door back door I ain't doing it. Point blank. Let
me do this man hold up.
She took your bread now you're annoyed
You should have kicked her out when she became unemployed
You didn't listen, stuck to ass-kissing
Now your money's missing, now your honey's missing
You used to buy her shoes, shirts, sweaters and all
She had your head like a medicine ball
You even tried to disrespect me when you slid
Right into her trap like the baseball kid
But I can tell by the way shit was looking
She'd eat up the food and jet like Bookman
You always said I didn't give you your props
You wound up getting shitted on, hops
Trust the man with the corrective lenses
Before you wind up ripping doors off the hinges
Mad as hell, with a bone-dry well
And you had the nerve to think that I was jel, but
It's a shame, when I gotta watch my man go down in the game (Repeat 4x)
Ayo kid, my man is trying to act like it's Easter and he's jumping
out of his rabbit-ass mind, talking about he's flying off of roofs.
Yo kid, I like girls and the whole thing, but it ain't going to roll
like that. Yo kid, let me explain this, hold up, hold up
You're sitting in a cell, mad as hell
Because you've decided to kill for your madamoiselle
I got some bad news, she's in the world getting used
And you can't even act confused
Cause after I hipped your ass to the script
You should've just played it to the back like a pip
I knew she was dreaded, but you wanted to set it
And act as though I was the one with the unleaded
I saw where you was headed
I just couldn't sweat it, fuck it, now you'll regret it
When you gotta lock ass for a pack of ?Barlils?
I hope that'll sharpen up your listening skills
Cause I can't keep giving brothers that sleep
My advice and they keep winding up in the heat
So no matter how much you think you love her
Before she was your girl I was your motherfucking brother, out
You know what I'm saying? I'll flip more than the script, kid
I said I'm looking at the front door, all that's fine and cool,
but yo, I ain't being no fool. Point blank
(Verse 1:)
Now I'm a flip the track and bring you back to reality
I'm like Wesley Snipes, I act without a salary
Cause I don't need nobody sayin "Lights, Camera, Action!"
I act on reaction
Fuck what you see on television
Cause nowadays all of us live in the hellavision
On every single channel it's the same old sane
Brothers' poppin their brain
Or gettin wrecked at a soccer game
Six brothers fallin victim to the street
After mad ? tribe vibes rollin in the black jeep
Every other channel spent its money on the talk shows
From Oprah to Horazo, everybody in New York knows
But when a brother gets real
They make the story opposite
And try to offer niggas raw deals
(Chorus:)
Television tells lies to the vision
The world's a prison
We're livin in hellavision
(Verse 2:)
Every day your lie to me is drama
But not the type of drama that my T.V. shows
Because it makes the drama calmer
When a lady's caught cheatin
She sets with the next man
And doesn't even catch a ass-beatin
Reality check - that's what the T.V. said
Cause in real life it's two to the fuckin head
Samedy Sam fillin bugs with slugs
Wild ? is cookin up these deadly drugs
Bart Simpson is cursin up for storm
And children love this shit man, come on
I see kids that say bringin guns to school
Ten year old crack heads and that ain't cool
My four year old daughter curses worse than Bart
Straight from my heart, it's tearin me apart
(Chorus)
(Verse 3:)
And now, hip hop is labelled as a violencer
Like everyone who rhymes packs a gat with the silencer
Every other ? hip hopper goes to prison
Over some dumb shit or for the real life livin
But who's to know what we've been goin through
When all you see is one side of us
The side the T.V. be showing you
You never hear about the stress or the work
Or the hard times we had or hip hop was getting jerked
You only see us in the limelight
But when the night comes, we're always linked to crime, right?
Man - what I've been through is strife
Yo - they could make fifty movies of my motherfuckin life
And there's a million like me
The people you don't see
When you watch your everyday T.V.
(Chorus)
I'll advance to your backside foot and put
Nine prints and diss a meantimes where the sun don't shine
So get a flah of the spotlight fast
You got kicked in the ass by the man with the eyes of glass
Slide from me you money kicking the dull crap
I'll make your skull snap seeing me all at
In this here field my foot equals yield
Your brain is simple and reveal while mine is sealed
Coming up with the archeological finds
Funk drums allow me to spark you with rhymes
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
While you was doing the butt, I was putting game down
You frowned before now you wear the same frown
Just as long as the buck I sit when I think
I couldn't care less who was jelling the Profess-or
Sir Scratch and K-Cut the Main Source
Back to break more atoms of course
With the beat no more melodious, votes I suprise folks
I'm as sharp as a toothpick, come and watch the youth kick
The game so tough cause the shine I'll scuff
Busting the fluff cause I'm just that tough
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
I stomp supposed comp like a posse
Brothers try to squash me, so I speak harshly
On the constant truth of the Main Source crew
I peruse the place jsut to see what I can do
To stupid MC's whose rhymes sound fabricated
Heads get deflated when the Professor's untranslated
Style gets everyday play
Brothers on the butters can't flip the Parkay
Their mouths are sealed like Zip-Loc bags
Fake like wrestling and small like frags
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Cause it's the Large Professor
Finessing the songs like this, babblists get bust with the quickness
Baby hit the mist
You want to feel hard times, then friend say your rhymes
The results will be about 10 volts in your mind
I'll electrify, your brain is hollow like a tunnel
I squeeze out doubt like a funnel
I'm the MS rep on the microphone
If I say what you don't like, go home
That's why the places I play stay packed
You like what I say and you always come back
The mic's my instrument, my skills are infinite, catch a hint from it
Man I had soul since I was negative three months old
When it came to getting down I was bold
Kicking steps until you had to put my ass in a choke hold
And damn near wouldn't fold
Check the picture with the apple jack hat
My father even taught me how to skat
So I developed the skat into what we call rap
And get nasty at that
Getting loose is not a problem it's getting back together
I pull girls like a lever, I get tired
Bring the coffee to my lips and watch the Large Professor do backflips
He got so much soul, he don't need no music (Repeat 4x)
I possess skills in the field of rapping
So get down cause I make it happen
Pop with a limp, low pro pimp
I make other MC's mope
Cause their skills ain't developed like negatives
Throughout the years, I've done mega kids
So don't fix your mouth you say I can't handle
I got more sole than a sandle
Cooler than a liter of digital soundproof
I raise the roof (Ain't that the truth)
Got money in the bank, baby pah, I'm a star
He got so much soul, he don't need no music (Repeat 4x)
I rip rappers up like a card
(Yo Large Professor I want to battle)
Man, you're sorry
I'm part of the Main Source
And we eat DJ's and MC's as the main course
For dinner, lunch, brunch, you better break fast
Cause I'll eat your whole bunch
Or crew, your girl's stuck to me like glue
Cause I kick it like a class of kung fu
I use a pick in my hair without force
You use a lawn mower, you got peat moss
Growing on your dome, that's why you're so dumb
I'll eat you like a plum
Messing with the brother on the beat
I share the rhymes that are kicking like feet
So don't let me start, holmes
Because I'll pull your chart
He got so much soul, he don't need no music (Repeat 4x)
Yeah that's us
Uh-huh
I think this the one here
Turn the beat up just a little bit
Uh-huh
I like this here
Uh-huh
EA all day
(Chorus)
Yo who them playas makin money now? (Yeah that's us)
Wrist glis when its sunny now (Yeah that's us)
Cristal at the bar now (Yeah that's us)
20 inches on the car now (Yeah that's us)
But who them playas most hated now? (Yeah that's us)
Straight from the hood but we made it now (Yeah that's us)
Plaques platinum plated now (Yeah that's us)
MF come on baby say it now (Yeah that's us)
Verse 1 (Spade)
Yo listen here playboy we gone get that dough
Face of the Cartier tic tac toe
Cats sayin, "Spade where you get that flow?"
Smoke to the sky when I hit that dro
Three to the five as we skip that four
What you need to know where my crib at for?
I know cats be on some slimy shit
And they be floggin in them whips we had in '96
And when Tone died it left my mind in a twist
Yeah that's us at the bar with the Don and the Cris
And I promise you this
Blow up I'm gone do that
5 coupe land on the lot royal blue that
Real dog never drop soil where his food at
Don't shit where you eat
And don't spit if you weak (I don't feel like hearing it)
New Benz driver's kick matchin feet
Platinum on the chain Alaskan in the piece
Yeah that's us
(Chorus)
Verse 2 (Ab Live)
Smooth thug with the good hair
Mami wanna holla now
Oh he Live?
Mami wanna swallow now
And put the condom down
Nah love
She love me when I'm smooth but hate me when I'm thug
She love me in them jewels playa never been a scrub
She love me in the cream thing soft butter gud
She fien to put the cream thing (Yeah that's us)
Went ruffle up the cream linen prada shhh wha
The boot to the echo mar prada shh wha
Like 10 off the S-5 nada shh wha
Got hotta shh wha playa (Yeah that's us)
You seen us down at St. Martin playa (Yeah that's us)
Week at the Knicks at the garden playa (Yeah that's us)
We at the flicks with my squadron playa (Yeah that's us)
Six O's after the margin playa (Yeah that's us)
Two bricks hidden compartment cherry red truck
(Chorus)
Verse 3 (Gillie)
I look at us and look at yall
A poor sight and velour knights
Limited decours like
That aint what the whores like
They love Gillie I aint writin the checks
Black out at the Phillies' game jewelry light up the Vet
Yeah that's us ballin in them cars and them jeeps
And that's us if you aint seen your broad in a week
A young blue chip, too slick, move bricks,
ooze spit two clips out the new 6
You wont do shit
A lot of women but I really like a few chicks
Vivrant things like Q-tip
Playa I do this
Cats know I smoke so I aint got no lungs
And you cats wanna smoke but yall aint got no ones
All the thugs scream drama aint got no guns
Aint satisfied till ya momma aint got no sons
Never messin' with them chicks in them 5-0-1's
You best believe its icey if I own one, shit
(Chorus)
MF future of the rap game
Yeah that's us at the bar
Yeah that's us wearin watches you can't even tell the time on, that's us
If you lookin around and you wonder why its like it is its cause of us
So either roll over or get rolled over, playboy
That's the way its gonna be in 2000
Verse One:
[blam] Aww shit, another young brother hit
I better go over my man's crib and get the pump
Cause to the cops, shootin brothers is like playin
baseball
And they're never in a slump
I guess when they shoot up a crew, it's a grand slam
And when it's one, it's a home run
But I'ma be ready with a wild pitch
My finger got a bad twitch, plus I'm on the switch --
-- side, and step up to the batter's box
Fuck red and white, I got on Black Sox
But let him shoot a person from the White Sox
What's the call? Foul ball!
Babe Ruth woulda made a good cop, but he didn't
Instead he was a bigot, dig it
My life is valuable and I protect it like a gem
Instead of cops gettin me I'm goin out gettin them
And let em cough up blood like phlegm
It's grim [blam blam] but dead is my antonym
And legally they can't take a fall
Yo check it out it's just a friendly game of baseball
Verse Two:
R.B.I. -- real bad injury
But don't get happy you're in jail for a century
Just as bad as bein shot in the groin
To see who'll shoot ya, they'll flip a coin
And watch him run for the stretch
But you don't know the man is at home waitin to make
the catch
So the outfielder guns you down
You're out, off to the dugout, underground
I know a cop that's savage, his pockets stay green like
cabbage
Cause he has a good batting average
No questions, just pulls out the flamer
[blam] And his excuses get lamer
Once a brother tried to take a leave
But they shot him in his face sayin he was tryin to
steal a base
And people watch the news for coverage on the game
Hmm, and got the nerve to complain
They need to get themselves a front row seat
Or sink a baseline for a beat
Cause television just ain't designed for precision
y'all
It's just a friendly game of baseball
Verse Three:
A kid caught on, but I don't know where the brother
went
The umpires are the government
I guess they took him out the game, and replace him
with a pinch-hitter, in the scam he was a quitter
So the cops usually torment, I mean tournament
Win em I was sayin
You can't let the umpires, hear ya speak and battle
like the other kid you won't be playin
Cause they'll beat you til your ass drop
A walking gun with a shell in his hand is their mascot
And when they walk around let it be known to step
lightly
The bases are loaded
My man got out from three strikes
In the skull but the knife he was carrying was dull
Instead of innings, we have endings
What a fine way to win things
And hot-dog vendors have fun
Sellin you the cat rat and dog on a bun
And when you ask what is all of this called?