(Phife from "Check the Rhime")Now here's a funky introduction

(scratching)

Guru: chorus 1(2X):

It's ALONGWAYTOGO, when you don't know where you're going
You don't know where you're going when you're lost (lost)

Guru:

What you need is more direction and get yourself some protection

I thought by now that you have learned your lesson

[Guru]
Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift off
Time for me to twist off a vocal fist off
into your domepiece, Homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone me
I get, wild like rugby, respected like Bugsy
Don't even ask me, cause I'm livin lovely
Born to succeed, foes bleed, true indeed
The oral combat will romp that, your one of my seeds
when I first, busted on the scene

"Get on it" --> DJ Premier cuts 'n' scratchs lovely

[Guru]

One two checka, get, down and dirty

and my sounds are worthy of respect
So I'ma flex my text just like a, major takeover

Chumps pass the mic over

Growin more and more nervous when I serve this ass whoopin

Comin straight out of Brooklyn, baldhead from the old school

Born to rule with more class than Billy Dee

Take this for example young brothers want rep

Cause in the life they're living, you can't half step

It starts with the young ones doing crime for fun

And if you ain't down, you'll get played out son

So let's get a car, you know, a fly whip
Get a dent, pull a screwdriver, and be off quick

With a dope ride, yeah, and a rowdy crew

We can bag us a Benz and an Audi, too

"Here we come, here we come, here we kiddy-come-come" --> Run-D.M.C.

[Guru]

I hit the chicks with the nice round heinies

Play a hoe like a hoe, play a sucka like stymied
Try me, and you'll descend into your end

Never thought it could be you well think again my friend

My pen illuminates, and dooms the fakes

You're soon to break, you're strawberry like shortcake

Intro: Greg Nice

Ah yeah, here's another Gangstarr sure shot, featuring the one and

only, uh heh heh heh handly handly boy, Nice & Smooth, hey, hey,

HEY, HEY!!!!

Ganstarr has got to be da sure shot

Nice & Smooth has got to be da sure shot

(Repeat 2X)

[Greg Nice]

Greg Nice!!! Greg N-I-C-E

Droppin dem basso, ah oui oui

Rock for a fee, not for free

f/ Big Shug

Fuck Around, Lay Around, do or die (3X)

"You figgedy fuck around, you lay around" --> Das EFX

[Big Shug]

Word to Joe Frazier, got ta do what pays ya

Give a nigga pain, like displasure

But close your hips in, nigga you can't win

I walk around, with a scowl and a grin

Parties try to rock me, chicks try to clock me

Verse One: Guru

No way you'll never make it

Come with the weak shit, I break kids

Step into my zone, mad rhymes will stifle ya
Lines like rifles go blast when I kick some ass

A lot of rappers be like one time wonders

Couldn't say a fly rhyme if there was one right under

Their noses, I hate those motherfuckin posers

But I'm so real to them it's scary

Refrain:

It's mostly tha voice, that gets you up

It's mostly tha voice, that makes you buck

A lot of rappers got flavor, and some got skills
But if your voice ain't dope then you need to [chill... chill... ]

Up steps one, and he gets done

Then up steps another, he gets smothered

That's word to mother, or should I say moms

I drop bombs, scorchin niggaz like napalm

[Guru]

Yo Duke, you're dead wrong; tou'll never have the skills like mine

I write the ill type rhymes now I'm reaching my prime

360 dunk in your face

You can't compete, you're just a basket case
Let's separate the men from the boys

And put your money where your mouth is, no time for toys

Your game is weak you geek so don't sleep

f/ Jeru the Damaja, Lil Dap

Verse One: Jeru the Damaja

Last year record companies were chumpin me
But now like chicks they all be up on me

and me so horny, I hit em like a groupie

Snatch off my hat wash my dick and keep it movin

Showing and proving on a day to day basis

I rip New York and a million different places

State to state country to country

MC's be fakin' so now they get taken

Chorus:

Fake MC's, they always act hard

But won't walk the street without they bodyguard

I hate fake MC's, they always act hard

But won't walk the street without they bodyguard

Verse One:

MC's I lay out like stiffs in the morgue

Praise the lord you're in awe when I'm grippin the mic cord

Rhymes I rip with swift execution

[Guru]

Boom bash dash, I had to break, I had to getaway

Packed my bags, to leave for good, it was a Monday

Kissed my mother, gave my pops a pound

Then he hugged me, and then he turned around
I threw the duffelbag over my shoulder

It was time to get props kid, cause now I'm older

Time to fend for myself jack

So I'ma go for mine, and maybe never come back

tons o' guns everybody's getting strapped

tons o' guns got to watch the way you act

tons o' guns real easy to get

tons o' guns bringing nothing but death

tons o' guns are in the streets nowadays
it's big money and you know crime pays

check your nearest overpopulated ghetto

they greet you with a pistol not trying to say hello

mad kids packed 'cos the neighbourhood's like that

f/ Melachi the Nutcracker (Group Home)

Sick thoughts on my mind with no self-control
Uplift your soul and make the brothers wanna roll

Sixteen years old with heart that's gold

Yo check it check it out like this, here we go

Run around the streets cold strapped like an alley rat

But now I'm gettin much props like a fat cat

A young mack but I don't think I'm all that