Yeah   Turn it up   That's right   For my niggas   Here we go      [Verse 1]   Some real niggas have gone away... never to return   Stay forever on wax 'cause the mics they burn   Outta sight, outta mind, never does it mean outta might, outta rhyme   So I return to make it hot for those who cannot   Smile down on me niggas, while I rock the spot   Is there heaven for a nice emcee   Crushin all these suckers dear God don't be mad with me   I don't mean to hurt nobody, I just wanna rock the party   And give you a taste of what's left, before I see death   Watch a nigga back, 'cause I don't trust nobody   Left hand hold the mic, and right bust the shottie   Sendin angels to guide me through, in the white drop top   When they ride me through   When I hit the pearly gates, will they take my tax   Will they let me rock the mic, will the beats be phat   Will the rappers write they own rhymes up in that piece   Will the fakes get locked by the cop police   Or will I have to deal with A&R's who don't got no say   I hope it don't be that way, tell me      HOOK 2X:   Who Knows Why   The reasons we live and the reasons we die   You can't figure this one, so why try   God help my soul as I testify   And I wont lie      [Verse 2]   Now as I'm lookin in the mirror I see myself   Handsome with attitude, so momma gratitude   I put the pressure on emcees   I make it hard for ya, with total, disregard for ya   This rap shit is raw not to be touched   The ingredients if tampered with, could get you fucked up   No one knows this secret I hold like Moses   Given at birth, now what it's worth, it's more than a million six   Let me spit it to you niggas, while my rhyme exists   Listen, separate the real from the wishin   If you bust at me and miss, you gon end up missin   'cause on these rap niggas styles I be shittin, pissin   Leave you niggas lookin dumb like two niggas kissin   I'm the true hardcore underground messiah   I'm the kinda nigga street thugs can admire   You never see me gettin robbed, jumped down and whipped out   Or cryin 'bout a deal with no money, flipped out   I get off my ass and make it happen   I'll stick up the world if I aint rappin   So why do I exist, tell me      HOOK      [Verse 3]   May Allah shine down on any emcee   That'll stand on stage and hold a mic with me   May he give you all the flow of the ocean water   And some nice hand skills to prevent slaughter   My lyrics painful like bullets from a rusty tech   Bumpy Knucks, nigga what, and you must respect   All the true shit that I reflect   Niggas know I exist only to wreck   Won't let the verse loosen til you sign the check   I won't be fussin at ya, but bustin at ya   I treat all my rhymes like they devines   Niggas spot me like a UFO   I turn my mic on and resurrect the livest flow   So if you askin me, why am I here   To clarify hip hop loud and clear   Real niggas, tell me      HOOK