You Know My SteezGang Starr

[Guru talking]
That makes me know that what we're doing
We had the right idea in the beginning
And and we just need to maintain our focus and elevate
We what we do we update our formulas
We have certain formulas but we update em (oh right)
With the times and everything y'know
So y'know the rhyme style is elevated
The style of beats is elevated but it's still Guru and Premier
And it's always a message involved

[Intro]
The real (The real)
Hip-hop (Hip-hop)
MCing (MCing), and DJing (DJing)
From your own mind (From your own mind)
You know? (You know?)
I, I guess right now we should start the show

[Verse 1: Guru]
Who's the suspicious character
Strapped with the sounds profound?
Similar to rounds spit by Derringers
You're in the Terrordome, like my man Chuck D said
It's time to dethrone you clones and all you knuckleheads
‘Cause MC's have used up extended warranties
While real MC's and DJ's are a minority
But right about now, I use my authority
‘Cause I'm like the Wizard, and you look lost like Dorothy
The horror be when I return for my real people
Words that split wigs hittin' like some double Desert Eagles
Sportin' caps pulled low, and baggy slacks
Subtractin' all the rappers who lack over Premier's tracks
Severe facts have brought this rap game to near collapse
So as I have in the past, I whoop ass
Droppin' lyrics that be hotter than sex and candle wax
And one-dimensional MC's can't handle that
While the world's revolvin', on its axis
I come with mad lovin', plus the illest warlike tactics
The wilderness is filled with this
So many people searchin' for false bliss
I'm here with the skills you've missed
The rejected stone is now the cornerstone
Sorta like the master builder when I make my way home
You know my steez

[Hook]
You know my steez
Let 'em know, do your thing, God
Keep it live (Keep it live, keep it live)
To the beat y'all

[Verse 2]
The beat is sinister, Premo makes you relax
I'm like the minister, when I be lacin' the wax
I be bringin' salvation through the way that I rap
And you know, and I know, I'm nice like that
Work through worldly problems, I got the healing power
When the mic's within my reach, I'm feelin' more power
Stealin' at least three minutes of every rap radio hour
It's often easier for one to give advice
Than it is for a person to run one's own life
That's why I can't be caught up in all the hype
I keep my soul tight and let these lines take flight
The apparatus gets blessed, and suckers get put to rest
No more of the unpure, I got the cure for this mess
The wackness is spreadin' like the plague
MC's lucked up and got paid
But still can't make the fuckin' grade
How many times are wannabe's gonna lie?
Yo, they must wanna fry
They can't touch the knowledge I personify
I travel through the darkness, carryin' my torch
The illest soldier, when I'm holdin' down the fort
You know my steez
(You know my steez)

[Hook]
Let 'em know, do your thing, God
Keep it live (Keep it live)
You know my steez
Let 'em know, do your thing, God
Keep it live (Keep it live)
You know my steez
Let 'em know, do your thing, God
Keep it live (Keep it live)
You know my steez
Let 'em know, do your thing, God
Keep it live (Keep it live)
The mic

[Verse 3]
On the microphone, you know that I'm one of the best yet
Some punks ain't paid all of their debts yet
Tryin' to be fly, ridin' high on the jet
Set with juvenile rhymes, makin' fake-ass death threats
Big deal, like En Vogue, here's somethin' you can feel
Styles more tangible, and image more real
For some time now, I've held the scrolls and manuscripts
When it's time to go all out, you be like, "Damn, he flipped!"
Now I'm sick, fed up with the bullshit
Got the lyrical full clip, givin' you a verbal asswhip
Don't trip, it's the gifted prolific one
Known as Bald Head Slick, why is the press all on my di-dick?
My style be wilder than a kamikaze pilot
Don't try it, I'm about to start more than a friggin' riot
Styles unsurpassable, and nuccas that's suckas
Yo, them motherfuckers are harrassable
For I be speakin' from my parables and carry you beyond
The mic's either a magic wand
Or it gets tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb
Then I grab your palm, no pulse, you're gone
And if you thought we'd lose our niche
In this rap shit, you way wrong
I stay up, I stay on, shine bright like neon
Your song's pathetic, synthetic like Rayon
Fat beats, they play on
Want dope rhymes? Put me on
Word is bond
You know my steez