Kool Keith 6 Feet Unda
			
Carole Lewis, may you rest in peace 
Here today, we are giving a wake 
Reverand Tom, and a lot of you other people out there 
in the so-called industry, executives 
Major promotional people that have died 
and lost their lives 
I will throw a little sand as the Reverand 
and let's pray everybody, gather around 
Let's close our eyes for one second with a moment of 
silence 
I'm tired of you watered down figures 
Y'all major record company watered down minions 
Take what I create 
Massive audience bite my innovative stuff and duplicate 
Casium trinity.. 
Cats are bitin me, all the hype and, big companies 
spend 8 million, videos recouped 
Your street team, retail hype and MTV and BET 
Rotation radio, you know you barely sold 100,000 
Don't open your mouth, turn in your masters 
Your marketing plans, commercials and billboards 
Big ads the cover of Vibe 
Actin like you get paid, you haven't seen a check in 
YEARS 
Don't front, you face disaster deduction from your 
royalties 
Zero ratings, you lease Bentleys with no insurance 
Your contract is up it's time to check Mase 
You got the lawyer lookin at you on the next deal 
You're unsuccessful, Ampex reels 
I know how you fake niggaz feel 
We will pray in church 
We will drop sand, we will burn you 
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust 
[Thee Undatakerz] 
Yeah, that's right 
We're gonna bury you six feet deep 
Six feet deep 
Ha ha, hahahahahaha! 
[Thee Undatakerz] 
Terminatin rappers contracts, careers are done 
No funds, obsolote, your bank statement read none 
Triple zero you dare, when freestyles get done 
Smokin sherm in cemeteries with Makaveli's son 
Deep conversations, got me watchin for hate 
This industry is full of jealous fake envious snakes 
I squash pretty flowers, take cash, take candy from 
children 
Run inside a bank broke and come out with a million 
 f..ck hangin out with niggaz runnin with problems come 
up 
Born in killer California where niggaz ride to come up 
And stay with real hustlers, livin phonies die to come 
up 
Look at these fake thug niggaz tryin to imitate 'Pac 
You ain't a gangster cause you bounce in the trey with 
hood flags on 
Disrespect the city I'm from and get blast on 
I drag niggaz names through the mud and the dirt 
Undatakerz love to cut a nigga in front of his mother 
We smother motherfuckers, no matter white or a brother 
Famous rappers found dead, nobody gotta discover 
ANYTHANG, we did it, don't gotta wonder 
You don't gotta discover no evidence, we did it! 
It's in your face (he's gone bury you) ha ha, 
y'knamsayin? 
Undatakerz (he's gonna dig your grave) 
[M-Balmer] 
I, I-I-I 
I heard it's like a jungle so I decided to send you 
under 
Two   three and one more that be me 
Make yo' head split - now that equals six! 
Got yo' number picked 
Got a few more stops to make before your final restin 
place 
Stretched out on a board, body cold in the morgue 
Coroner pullin off the duct tape 
Mortician tryin to fix the expression on your face 
But wait, Funeral Director, burial packets in his case 
Embalm the room, filled with tombs 
Fluid this I'm bout to lay down fools 
Make a call to the rear, Tommy get their walkin pass 
Holdin his nose, put some chronic in the air 
Quotin scriptures (Undatakerz) 
And the last prayer 
(Undatakerz)