What I'm Here 4

What I'm Here 4

Gang Starr

"Tell the people what you're here for."

It's the message in the song that makes you rock on.
Some people go to places where they don't belong.
Whether wrong or right, a lot of people fight,
But I'm here to bless this mic, aight?

I take action, the minute that the crowd gets hype.
I'm type crashin', down like a meteorite.
I'm Bogart-ing, mics and whole stages.
Destroying MC's dreams, from words, to whole pages.
Their rapbooks, look more like scrapbooks,
With their fictional fairytales, and frail-ass hooks.
A lot of shit has happened, since I started rappin'.
There's been, enough beef, and enough gat clappin'.
There's been mad signs, for this brother to heed.
And while some choose greed, I choose to plant seeds,
For your mental, spirit, and physical temple.
Bob your head to it; there's the water, you've been lead to it.
Bathe in it; a long time, you've been cravin' it.
Prance to it; use your third eye and glance through it.
Your state of being, becoming advanced through it.
While others rhyme with no reason, I be breezin',
Their mics I seize them, then I try 'em for treason.
I used to always like to hang out,
Now I lounge in the rest, writin' bombs, while tracks bang out.
I know you peeped me in the club then.
But now I'm in your speaker, with the voice that you're lovin'.
Chorus
Verse Two: Guru
Peace to the young ladies, who want to bone me much.
And peace to my nigga, Premier, with the golden touch.
I never fall off point, like DeNiro in Casino.
Peace to Black Gambinos, and all my peoples.
Dig the steelo; I'm fightin wars, you know,
As in the Jihad, most humble, most merciful.
That's because I be God, I trog through fogs, puffing logs.
MC's muttering menial madness, they get mobbed,
Scarred and barred, and then, banished from my fuckin' kingdom.
You got a fly one, bring one, or else I come to fling some.
Exquisite, exotic, exciting type shit.
Enough to make the real heads wake up, and get hype quick.
I'm type slick, known as the God Universal.
Kick rhymes without rehearsal, I cross the burnin' sands.
Now I stand here, with virtue, of course I could hurt you.
Simply with my point of view, and I knew
That many would come, that's why I've chosen
To cut off pathways, and there's no runways or doorways open,
For the jokers who ain't focused.
And all the fake mercenaries get buried by the tongue of terrifying fury.
Nothing's blurry, fuck it, I got no worries.
Hearts and minds, shine bright light, with insight.
Yeah, sense my birthright, to set up ciphers with power.
'Cause mad shit ain't right, like punks in the spotlight,
Who can't freestyle; sometimes I make my peeps smile
By sayin' somethin' crazy, wild.
Like some shit off my dome, that be soundin'
Better than the next man's whole album...

Written by MARTIN, CHRISTOPHER E/ELAM, KEITH
Published by EMI Music Publishing

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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