Ras Kass, Christen Lien - Grammy Speech lyrics

Had next after Pac died, right before Eminem
The West Coast spitter
The East Coast consider 'em
Synonym,  I'm nice, A-Alike,  "Anything Goes"
With the Al B sure "Day
Or Night", "Miami Life", slay a mic
Like Buster Douglas round ten
The money and fame
Saw my piece of the pie but never ate a slice
'Cause I wrote "Nature of The Threat"
And prolly paid the price
Plus when the homies low-key jealous
They hate your life deceitful cocksuckers
Ungrateful motherfuckers
I'm KRS, y'all just some part-time suckas
Good night they told me fight the good fight
But y'all suck whoever cock in the limelight
And most of 'em don't even rhyme tight
Call Ghostbusters
He don't even write his own rhymes 20
20 is hindsight, foreskin is uncircumcised
That's a turtle-neck, not Kosher
Open your eyes while I try
To get your mind right
Spat on my hands like Jesus
Christ gave the blind sight
How may mics did I terrorize?
100, 000 on Twitter, still not verified?
My nigga, this a sham, it's rigged
Rappers is hip-hop cops for the man, ya dig?
What happened to hip hop? More insulting
Now the underground don't respect skills
If you don't go pop
Ain't that some backwards shit, though?
Like it jumping out the toilet bowl and
Squeezing back up in your asshole
Lot of basic bars, beats just 808
Some of y'all so behind they prostate
When I state, it's all state
You in good hands
VIP on GP, I don't need a wristband
Diamond D, don't call us OG
I'm not old school
I will shoot up the whole school
Get drunk off O'Doul's
Piss in your Pro Tools uFC 229 with no rules
I want to thank the fans
My friends and family
For the one I'll never win
This my Grammy speech

Huh? Wait, hold on i'm not finished
Huh? Man, fuck that
Yeah, this thing on?
(Always tryna cut a nigga off)
Ayy, let that nigga keep goin'
Ayy, Ras, talk, nigga, talk

And this for leaving 'Pac out
The 10 Greatest Rappers List
Whoever wrote that must of bumped they
Head and ate a dick
Whole industry monopolized on some hater shit
Shit is a sham, it's glitz and glam
Smoke and mirrors, say real shit, get banned
Since master feed the artist
Can't bite the hand
You know you fucked up when
You mic'd my stand
So they unplugged me, un-loved me
If I was a baby seal they would club me
Suddenly convince you I'm ugly, unlucky
Just fuck me but I'm lovely
Ain't a rapper breathing above me
Best lyricist
But so-called hip hop awards snubbed me
Label mad cause I won't act like Buckwheat
Tried to find another path to succeed
They obstruct me
Industry execs on a smear campaign
Assassinated my character and bashed my name
"Ras a racist, he don't like white people"
I don't like stupid-ass black or
White people quite equal "He alcoholic"
Yeah ask every producer
Artist and engineer I ever worked with
I'm always prepared, most professional
First in the booth
With the best verse as the proof
Fuckboys, I'm hurting your cooch
So while you nominate who dominate charts
But they don't write, can't sing
How you artists without art?
These niggas is mascots
Hiding behind brands
I be tearing they mask off
Y'all Ronald McDonald's lip sync music
Colonel Sanders
Fake recipes frontin' like he produced it
They hit sharks
All up in the studio lurkin' like
"That song hot, let me buy that"
Fake like he made that
Track, repeat that rap, wack!
Then act like he a fucking egomaniac
Yeah I'm talking to you, , , , and
So I accept this award on
Behalf of the true emcee-ers
Whether the fans know it or not, they need us
Industry won't feed us want us
All living in Kias or force black men to get
Rich dressing like Madea
Shit, I keep it gangsta like "gyeah" WC
"niyah" my rhymes sick, chlamydia
Middle finger in the air
Music industry can shove it up your rear
But a lot of y'all
Secretly into that lifestyle, fuck RIAA

This is called gravity