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F.A.G. (Fake Ass Gangsta)

This song is by M.O.P. and appears on the album To the Death (1994).

(Lil' Fame and Billy Danzini)
You fake rappers get the boot
Sprayed like brew, I'm shootin f.a.g.'s at they video shoot
I bump your ass off quick, so yo, muthafuck karate, boy
Don't fuck around and make me catch a batty boy
You ain't nothin' but a f.a.g., you fake-ass gangsta
You niggas don't want it with the Famester
Bringin' it to you gon' be the last, kid
I'm ready to blast, kid
Aiyo, let's take it to they ass, kid
Billy Danz, the o.g.
The nigga that you fake-ass gangstas can't see
I'm willin' to die for my respect
If I have to I will let
So I walk with a fifth and I pray to a fuckin' tec
In '93 I calmed down
But now these so-called gangsta-ass niggas got gased
Herbs are not ready, derelicts are petty
Nigga, I be your worst nightmare like I was Freddy
Niggas be actin' sweet, claimin they packin heat
Get a rugged peek and wanna talk about the street
You niggas ain't livin' trife
And rappers that's claimin that they underground
I put they ass under ground for life
Wait, I'ma set that ass straight
Herbs only perpetrate
But look, my burner don't discriminate
All race, creed, shape, breed
Anytime's fine with me
You fuckin' f.a.g.

(Front, I make it a thrill to kill)
(Straight up and down, act like you want a confrontation)

(Lil' Fame)
Here it is for you niggas that chastise the game
It's M.O.P., nigga, recognize the name
I'm beatin' down punks and breakin down chumps
When he stroll I hit him with the old brown pump
Because we're goin' all out, word to Miz
You niggas gotta get it like Jason got his
Nigga, your whole shit'll be rearranged
Because I'ma give 'em a buck fifty and let 'em keep the change
Another nigga smoked, oh Lord
Because he just finished watchin 'Menace', he musta thougth he was O-Dog
Ass out for the last nigga that wanted drama
Because I smoked him with the 9mm lama
You fake thugs ain't bustin' slugs, please
A muthafucka like you deserve 12 to your mug piece
So all you niggas start makin' tracks
Because there's too many phoney baloney muthafuckas fakin jacks
I go to work for my joint, muthafucka, you know me
It's the one and only, and M.O.P.
Gunsmoke when I defeat a man
Because I smoke muthafuckaas like the 9mm man

(Billy Danzini)
Plow! You bitch-ass nigga, you better walk
Only with my muthafuckin burner will I talk
See, I'm from the Marks, and that makes me a marksman
Wanna know tonight? My fifth be talkin'
Fake gangstas drive by and try to hit me with a clip full
What kinda shit is he tryin' to pull?
All you bitch-ass niggas got to be jacked
Tryin' to get wreck, squeezin out nothin' when bustin' your tec
I'm Billy Danz, overseer of the underground
Hillfigure, yo, bitch nigga, I get down
What I be on is the untold truth of a livin' hell
So one of you bitch niggas is comin' up out of his shell
M.O.P. goin' out till the end
This is how we separate the boys from the men
Real niggas that's ill niggas that kill niggas
The beaver that sneak with his finger on the trigger
Fake gangstas got mad war stories to tell
About how many muthafuckas they blew up in jail
They said their camp was mad deep and they had crazy pull
That little bitch, but now he snitched like Sammy the Bull