You Ain’t Real Ultramagnetic MC's

[Intro]
Niggas
Niggas
Niggas
Niggas
Niggas

[Verse 1]
Brothers wanna know what's goin' on about the 411
On the group, and so on and so forth
So what you talk for, you know what I came for
A motherfuckin' ground war
Talkin' that same old style
Same old song, same old thang
Sweatin' yourself, you're gettin' busy, yo
Huh, but you still can't hang
I'd rather rip, and still the flip trip
On the mic grip and hit, and then trip
Into, but never, ever miss, yo
You still ain't shit
Thinkin' you're all that, you've got
The rep and props, but you still can't rap
Wanna talk about a wannabe, never gonna be
Ever gonna be, who's gonna see?
Come near here, come here child, yeah
I got flavor, style, compare
Hold the beat, stop the beat, drop the beat
Yo, you can't compete
You wanna steal my voice, steal our sound
Steal my beats, you wanna fuck around
I don't play son, shorts do I take none
You need help, better call 911
Or the Beatles, or Susanna
Drink you up like a cup of Tropicana
Juice, I got more, flowin' like a river
Yeah, style's what I give ya
Shakin' 'em, keep fakin' 'em, make-make-makin' 'em
Takin' 'em, bakin' 'em, no mistakin' the
Dope, hyper, raw, def MC
Wanna talk about a man, yo, who is he
Or she? You got nerve to even talk that
What about that? Yeah, what's up with that?
Rumor talkin', we can't make a hit
We've been makin' hits while you've been suckin' dicks
Around the town, lookin' for a hardcore deal
Yeah, you ain't real