Grammy Speech - Ras Kass, Christen Lien

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, its 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, its 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 ****, ****, ****

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 RIIA

This is called gravity