Step Into A World (Remix) - Lyrics - Krs One

Title: Step Into A World (Remix)
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Sean J. Combs, Lawrence Krsone Parker, Andre Maurice Barnes, Christopher Stein, Deborah Harry, Joseph Kirkland, Rodney Lemay

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Lyric:
Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

Yeah, what what
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

I'm 'bout to hit you wit that traditional style of cold rockin'
Givin' options for head knockin' non stoppin'
Tip-toppin' lyrics we droppin' but styles can be forgotten
So we bring back the raw hip-hoppin'
Just like the records and tapes you be coppin'
Cop some breakdancin', boogie poppin', and lockin'
Tic tockin', guaranteed to have you clockin'
We only get better and only better we have gotten

This type of flow don't even think about stoppin'
Beware, the length of the rhyme flow can be shockin'
All music lovers in the place right now
That never understood the way that KRS got down
Yo, I'm strictly about skills and dope lyrical coastin'
Relying on talent, not marketing and promotion
If a dope lyrical flow is a must
You gots to go with a name you can quickly trust

I'm not sayin' I'm number one, uhh I'm sorry, I lied
I'm number one, two, three, four and five
Stop wastin' your money on marketing schemes
And pretty packages pushin' dreams to the beams
A dope MC is a dope MC
With or without a record deal, all can see
And that's who KRS be son
I'm not the run of mill, 'cause for the mill I don't run

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

Yeah, yeah
Everybody on the mic in the party sound alike
Until I recite, in black and white what's right
Let me take flight, my style is tight and good
Tight and good, come is it tight and good
Old styles I pass dat, slow down on fast rap
All in yo' ass crack, old king go blast dat
Conjure to ask dat, hyper type of flashback
I publish like ascap lyrics for hand clap

No past rappin', youth trackin', talent lackin'
MC's more worried about their financial backin'
Steady packin' a gat as if something's gonna happen
But it doesn't, they wind up shootin' they cousin, they buggin'
I appear everywhere and nowhere at once
I know my style is bumpin', even though some people front
It's the God of rap, you heard of it
The one that rhymes toward the sky givin' airplanes mad turbulence

In rap tournaments, I reign permanent
Don't you think by now the number one spot I'm not concerned with it
The course of rap I'm turnin' it
Back to that good old fashioned way of getting cash money by earning it
No bogus hocus pocus, I bring back to focus
Skills if you notice my position is lotus
Now quote this, MC's are just hopeless
Thinkin' record sales make them the dopest

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

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8a27ad15734d7f89d486efdec2b5df5c

Step Into A World (Rapture'S Delight) - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: Step Into A World (Rapture'S Delight)
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Sean J. Combs, Lawrence Krsone Parker, Andre Maurice Barnes, Christopher Stein, Deborah Harry, Joseph Kirkland, Rodney Lemay

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

Yeah, what what
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

I'm 'bout to hit you wit that traditional style of cold rockin'
Givin' options for head knockin' non stoppin'
Tip-toppin' lyrics we droppin' but styles can be forgotten
So we bring back the raw hip-hoppin'
Just like the records and tapes you be coppin'
Cop some breakdancin', boogie poppin', and lockin'
Tic tockin', guaranteed to have you clockin'
We only get better and only better we have gotten

This type of flow don't even think about stoppin'
Beware, the length of the rhyme flow can be shockin'
All music lovers in the place right now
That never understood the way that KRS got down
Yo, I'm strictly about skills and dope lyrical coastin'
Relying on talent, not marketing and promotion
If a dope lyrical flow is a must
You gots to go with a name you can quickly trust

I'm not sayin' I'm number one, uhh I'm sorry, I lied
I'm number one, two, three, four and five
Stop wastin' your money on marketing schemes
And pretty packages pushin' dreams to the beams
A dope MC is a dope MC
With or without a record deal, all can see
And that's who KRS be son
I'm not the run of mill, 'cause for the mill I don't run

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

Yeah, yeah
Everybody on the mic in the party sound alike
Until I recite, in black and white what's right
Let me take flight, my style is tight and good
Tight and good, come is it tight and good
Old styles I pass dat, slow down on fast rap
All in yo' ass crack, old king go blast dat
Conjure to ask dat, hyper type of flashback
I publish like ascap lyrics for hand clap

No past rappin', youth trackin', talent lackin'
MC's more worried about their financial backin'
Steady packin' a gat as if something's gonna happen
But it doesn't, they wind up shootin' they cousin, they buggin'
I appear everywhere and nowhere at once
I know my style is bumpin', even though some people front
It's the God of rap, you heard of it
The one that rhymes toward the sky givin' airplanes mad turbulence

In rap tournaments, I reign permanent
Don't you think by now the number one spot I'm not concerned with it
The course of rap I'm turnin' it
Back to that good old fashioned way of getting cash money by earning it
No bogus hocus pocus, I bring back to focus
Skills if you notice my position is lotus
Now quote this, MC's are just hopeless
Thinkin' record sales make them the dopest

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, KRS-One, rock on

Step into a world
Where there's no one left
But the very best
No MC can test

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where MC's and DJ's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

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800d31f1b1ca5082e6857e3a5a1f8304

People'S Choice - Lyrics - Defari

Title: People'S Choice
Artist: Defari
Composer(s): Betty Eisner, Duane A Jr Johnson, Les Mccann, Michael Taylor Perretta

Lyric:
It's going down around town what? Likwit Likwit 'No Doubt'
'Knock 'Em Out The Box' Slick Rick 'Children's Story'

Don't underestimate the reach
Here comes that city brother who lives by the beach
Defari, work for Likwit organize
Dodger hats and snowboard shades

Camouflage my eyes, hustle to survive
The Less mican man stands grand
And work with two twenty five
This here's the second smash

The album, the third
The trilogy will be heard from Toronto to Pittsburgh
Yo Ev, do we got retail in Afghanistan
(Man I don't know but I know we got Japan)

Uh ha, word up we all over the states man
Doin' this for the MC's and the DJ's
The vertebrae without the B-boys
Hip hop wouldn't be here to this very day

And that's my word, we tryin' to blow like the Hiddenburg
Swerve legalize dope in the form of vinyl
This ain't the final or the last blast kid
I'm throwin' heat on the map for the underground massive
(What?)

No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC

See lyrically shit is gettin' drastic
A lot of niggas flock tryin' to be new instead of classic
Like an Aztec, praise the jaguar
Like the fact that the sun shines at the biggest star

Bigger than Mike Jackson or Michael Jordan
So many Candyland MC's are boring
See we be touring [unverified] and [unverified]
(What?)
Creepin' up in the shower on bitches like Anthony Perkins
(Ha)

Lurkin' in the ranks
I'm tryin' to be like that brother Ant and stack mad Banks
Plus give thanks and praise
For each day I'm able to raise and see that foggy haze
Comin' off the coast of the Pacific
We stretch to the Atlantic my crew is Likwit

No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC

Yo, fuck the pennies, give me the silver dollars
The smooth scholar working hard straight blue collar
Appreciate wealth so I do for myself
First collaborate with live niggas and divide the purse

The well rehearsed MC, Defari Heru
I crack the glass blackboard MCs
So I can see through I do my Dew
Do my thang, hip hop is my love supreme

That's word to John Coltrane
This cat Dwayne rollin' down the diamond lane
Travel by train, bus, boat, car or airplane
To different venues with our names on the fliers

Likwit niggas known to get ship poppin' and get it on fire
I'm Extra Swift like my man Eric Brooks
I keep an eye out for crooks
Who contemplate rapin' my notebooks

Some cut fast but they don't' cut faster
Then the Kutmaster Kurt
When I work, I'm climbin' ladders

No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC
No doubt predicting far and ahead what will set the party off
KRS-One, The MC

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680f5ef67bec162776f0c1d54f6f47dd

5 Boroughs - Lyrics - Krs One

Title: 5 Boroughs
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Ryan Corwin, William Broady, Cameron Giles, Jeremy A Graham, Lawrence Krsone Parker, Joseph Ward Simmons, Albert Johnson, Keith Murray, Reggie Noble, Kenyatta S Blake, Walter Reed

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
KRS-One representing Ma 6T va Crack er, Cercle Rouge KRS-One
Droppin' on 'em like this, pick it up, pick it up
You know what time it is when KRS-One comes through
Representing all true hip hop culture, you know how we do

How can they throw you in prison now for long years
If in reality the black man doesn't belong here?
Have you forgotten how we got to this place?
Why then are all the jails predominantly the black race?

If you don't teach me my culture, I don't know who I am
I don't know the difference between my enemy and my friend
So I'm robbin' and killin' I got nothing to live for
You turn my father into a boy, my mother into a whore

Now I'm hardcore on the Ave
Watching while people that got me to walk fast
After beatin' us, rapin' us and robbin' us
400 years of that's what's inside of us

Take a look at me now I'm really your creation
A technological anti-human mutation
A mutation of a better way of life
You first pulled the knife
But to heal it will take my whole life

I fought no force on this level
I listen to bass and treble
Thinking that the white man is the devil
'Cause who could be so cruel like this?
So heartless, so senseless?

But I'm taught by the devil
To grow up and be a devil
To do the same devilish things on another level
However when I act out the mission
You turn around and throw me in prison
You a sucker

If you come from France
And you like the break dance, say, oh oh
(Oh oh)
And If you come from New York
And you like the way I talk, say, yeah
(Yeah)

You can kill a man by taking him out of his land
And putting him in a land he really doesn't understand
Then teach him to respect Greek mythology like
Pythagoras, Ptolemies, Socrates, these people are thieves
They stole us astronomy, mathematics, all tactics of biology

Even the concept of democracy stolen from the King Akhanoton
Put down the book, use your brain
If you don't know who you are you are clinically insane

The board of education can't see that
Well it deserves to get beaten and robbed by black
Give me my frame of mind back, give me my culture
But you don't understand that 'cause you a sucker

If you come from France
And you like the break dance, say, oh oh
(Oh oh)
And If you come from New York
And you like the way I talk, say, yeah
(Yeah)

I see Beauval in the house, Collinet in the house
Sarcelles in the house, Cercle Rouge in the house
KRS-One rocks the mike without a doubt
Turning parties out, you know what I am about

'Cause we will be here forever I told you
Soldier floods your mind like Noah
As you get older you've got to pay attention
At how you livin' hardcore

You ain't a kid anymore grow up
To blow up the spot you're at
Learn the skill and go to the top of that
Cercle Rouge definitely rockin' in rap
KRS-One I got your back

If you come from France
And you like the break dance, say, oh oh
(Oh oh)
And If you come from New York
And you like the way I talk, say, yeah
(Yeah)

KRS-One with the freestyle rhyme
Representing Cercle Rouge in France, all the graffiti artists
We like to break dance to the MC, yes, you know that's me
KRS-One down with the BDP

From way back you know we take it like that
Kenny P and Zizwe, Will-Dee, gods of rap
We do it like this, do it like that

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f802338e5466a02483e21d0ccb2d1533

Hot - Lyrics - The Sneak Attack - Krs One

Title: Hot
Album: The Sneak Attack
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker, Maurice Ernest Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Barry Gibb

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Yeah, who will be standing when the smoke clears?
(KRS-One)
Word up, what's up with this? We're coming through
Boogie Down style, kid, what's up?
This is KRS-One, the light at the end of the tunnel

Yo, they not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

I'm hot, been hot, repeatedly heated
Don't call the teacher, hah, you best be seated
You got these kids gazed up like you own the inventory
Fake muthafuckas ain't tellin' the whole story

Tell 'em how you borrow from everyone you knew
And now that you're on top, they can't borrow from you
That's not hot, tell 'em how you love bein' pop
'Cause you was so broke before sleepin' cold on a cot

You don't rock, you grab money
Your crocks rock the spot and you grab them honeys
It's about to get ugly
I don't even go to these bullshit kiddie-ass clubs

You wanna be a thug? Let's thug
First of all, soldiers speak to soldiers
Captains speak to captains
Lieutenant, lieutenant, cool?

But your first mistake is, he's steppin' to me, rookie
Like you a O.G. and you just a run-up, fool
Who really got these streets on lock?
Whose name really holds high respect on the block?

Who opened up these clubs and taught you how to mix?
Who opened up these thugs from Compton to the Bricks?
I don't even sound like the rest of you kiddies
I study the ways of God, you studyin' titties

And ass, I pity your class
'Cause you come out with a blast
But you're trash, so you really don't last

They not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

They not hot, all they do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

This is hotter than heat, too deep, I'm on top of the streets
You weak, you ain't really rockin' these beats
You [unverified], you dress straight, eat straight
But you're a slave and yo, you can't come up in a heat tank

God we thank, we watch what we sell
You better hope these Christians are wrong 'cause you goin' to hell
Think about that when you're spittin' your raps
And you call out KRS, I'll put you flat on your back

You're not hot, all you do is talk a lot
That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?
That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not hot, a real MC you're not

What's hot?
(KRS-One)
That's hot, what's hot?
(KRS-One)

That's hot, who's hot?
(KRS-One)
That's hot, where's your respect on the block?
(KRS-One need to be runnin' for office)
(So Butta-Pican Rican, tell 'em to get off it)

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ccd9f8ff4682c06d6dbaf13bb7af6a76

Blowe - Lyrics - Krs One

Title: Blowe
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Krsone Parker, Reggie Noble, Rodney Lemay

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Hey baby, bring me something to drink in here
Please sit down and watch a little TV

Yo they comin', it's crazy but I know it they comin'
Maybe, not lately I feel it coming I knew it, they comin'
This just in President, I guarentee
Jim, Jimmy, Jimmy wake up, Jimmy
Only the Lord can save, 5.99 no obligation
Let me start to rock this mic
Now the polar bear hybernates
And, and what was going through your mind right now

Look at these weak MC's getting G's
Never wore BVD's or even bellbottom Lees
Please, with these fantisies about you selliing keys
When you know you bees in front of the TV eatin' grilled cheese
On your knees you know my steez
Kris is nice with these M-I-Cs

I'm Poison like BBD the plot thickens while I be hittin'
And lyric lickin', flippin' any mix and over the skippin'
And cable clippin', still sickenin'
Even though some people ain't admitting
Through they system I keeps it kickin'
And tippin' the scale I pay tuiton not bail
Drink water not ale, my MC Hammer hits it right on the nail
I can't fail with my 7 stripes

Strike one pierces the lung over the drum MC's become dumb
Like "um?" They numb, bite the tongue over the bass drum
I am D the MC like Run, spittin' lyrics for fun
And for a sum of the bread crumb
You missed when you swung, I connected whole hum
Another one done underestimated KRS-One, yeah, so

Say blowe
If you really want true skill
Say blowe
If you want the hip hop to build
Say blowe
I'll be rockin' all year round
You better cool the F out before we go up in your mouth

It's just begun to bubble, KRS-One spells trouble
On the mic soon there is no double
I emerge from under the rumble
Count the truth poetic construction, audio abduction
Showbiz production for wack lyric reduction
And fly rhyme instruction

Keep the party hoppin'
Keep the DJs buggin' from the orthodox
Non Xerox hip hop chatter box
It was dope first crack out the box with Scott LaRock
How MC's are washed up like sweat socks
KRS-one makes the heads nod

Say blowe
If you really want true skill
Say blowe
If you want the hip hop to build
Say blowe
I'll be rockin' all year round
You better cool the F out before we go up in your mouth

KRS-One, yes my son
Tweet tweet
KRS-One, yes my son
Tweet tweet, tweet
You know they can't compete, ain't that right
No doubt
You better cool the F out before we go up in your mouth

When it's my turn, kid, look at what you done did
Like my head is dreadable, you edible
I kick incredible shit for my poeple
I'm jackin' these like me so sue and stretch like bobbito overloops
While you sittin' on stoops I'm rockin' mics for U.S. troops in group
You screwed up, oops, I can read a true crook
Like I read a new book

I'm hooked on hip hop culture
Look at the tip top lyrical structure
Floatin' like a soap bubble that you don't wann puncture
Or rupture, I write what I utter, mother mother mother
There's too many of us dying still trying and not doin'
Not suceeding still pursueing, what you doing?
What you doing? What you doing?

The session is started departed on schedule
I beg you please lookover my lyrical menu
What others can't do I can do
Enhancing 7 levels of your mental
I dismantel stress, you're listening to the advanced lyrical best
Worldwide qualified to administer any MC test
Stop guessin,' class is in full session
Now showbiz show 'em how

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648e2639c5ace07a5f88e7a234866c0e

I'M Still #1 - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: I'M Still #1
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
D.j. doc you know he's down with us
D-square, he's down with us
Keyboard money mike, is down with us
I.c.u., you know he's down with us
D-nice and mcboo, they're down with us
Ms. melodie, she's down with us
Just-ice and dmx, they're down with us
My manager moe, he's down with us
Castle-d boy, he's down with us
D.j. red alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one
People still takin' rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million mcs
I try to tell them, we're all in this together
My album was raw because no-one would ever
Think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue
What do you think makes up a krs?
Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking?
Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin' off-beat with a smile
Or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to
Bdp posse so I love to
Step in the jam and slam
I'm not superman, because anybody can
Or should be able to rock off turntables
Grab the mic, plug it in and begin
But here's where the problem starts, no heart
Because of that a lot of groups fell apart
Rap is still an art, and no-one's from the old school
'Cause rap is still a brand-new tool
I say no-one's from the old school 'cause rap on a whole
Isn't even twenty years old
Fifty years down the line, you can start this
'Cause we'll be the old school artists
And even in that time, I'll say a rhyme
A brand-new style, ruthless and wild
Runnin' around spendin' money, havin' fun
'Cause even then, I'm still number one

Blastmaster krs-one of course
Comes to express with style the lost
Ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present
Knock, knock, who is it?
A brand-new style, hup, time to change
People talk about me when they see me on stage
Live in action, guaranteed raw
I hang with the rich and I work for the poor
Now tomorrow you can say you saw
Krs-one stompin' once more
I play by ear, I love to steer
The alfa romeo from here to there
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
'Cause I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive
I'm not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin' because of my vocals
You know what you need to learn?
Old school artists don't always burn
You're just another rapper who's had his turn
Now it's my turn, and I am concerned
About idiots posing as kings
What are we here to rule?
I thought we were supposed to sing
And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach
Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak
Krs-one is something like a total renegade
Except I don't steal, I rhyme to get paid
Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin'
Politicians lyin', I'm tryin'
Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on
By bringin' out the truth in a song
So bdp, short for boogie down productions
Made a little noise 'cause the crew was sayin' somethin'
People have the nerve to take me for a gangster
An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster
Doin' petty crimes, goin' straight to penitentiary
But in a scale of crime that's really elementary
This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence
Why my last jam was so violent
It's simple bdp will teach reality
No beatin' around the bush, straight up, just like the p is free
So now you know, a poet's job is never done
But I'm never overworked, 'cause I'm still number one
Kool moe dee, he's down with us
Eric b. and rakim, they're down with us
Stetsasonic, they're down with us
Dana dane, he's down with us
Sleeping bag records, they're down with us
My lawyer jay, he's down with us
Jive/rca is down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one

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ac755b59138aabe39cae55e792005117

My Philosophy - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: My Philosophy
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
So, you're a philosopher?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
I think very deeply, I think very deeply, I think very deeply
I think, I think, I think very deeply, I think, I think very deeply

Let's begin, what, where, why, or when
Will all be explained like instructions to a game
See I'm not insane, in fact, I'm kind of rational
When I be asking you, "Who is more dramatical?"
This one or that one, the white one or the black one
Pick the punk, and I'll jump up to attack one
KRS-One is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face and ditched you

Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holding a pistol something far from a lover
Beside my brother, S C O T T
I just laughed, 'cause no one can defeat me
This is lecture number two, 'My Philosophy'
Number one, was 'Poetry' you know it's me
This is my philosophy, many artists got to learn
I'm not flammable, I don't burn

So please stop burnin', and learn to earn respect
'Cause that's just what KR collects
See, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
You got to have style, and learn to be original
And everybody's gonna wanna diss you
Like me, we stood up for the South Bronx
And every sucka mc had a response

You think we care? I know that they are on the tip
My posse from the Bronx is thick and we're real live, we walk correctly
A lot of suckas would like to forget me but they can't
'Cause like a champ, I have got a record of knocking out
The frauds in a second on the mic, I believe that you should get loose
I haven't come to tell you I got juice
I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level
I'll be back, but for now just seckle

I'll play the nine and you play the target
You all know my name so I guess I'll just start it
Or should I say, start this, I am an artist
Of new concepts at their hardest
Yo, 'cause I'm a teacher, the Scott is a scholar
It ain't about money 'cause we all make dollars
That's why I walk with my head up
When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up

Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games
A lot of suckas with colorful names
I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that
Huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack
I'm not white or red or black
I'm brown from the Boogie Down
Productions, of course our music be thumpin'
Others say they're bad, but they're buggin'

Let me tell you somethin' now about hip hop
About D-Nice, Melodie, and Scott La Rock
I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker
Mainly what I write is for the average New Yorker
Some mc's be talkin' and talkin'
Tryin' to show how black people are walkin'
But I don't walk this way to portray
Or reinforce stereotypes of today

Like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon
Talk broken English and drug sellin'
See I'm tellin', and teaching real facts
The way some act in rap is kind of wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
But they don't care 'cause the company is sellin' it
It's my philosophy, on the industry
Don't bother dissin' me, or even wish that we'd

Soften, dilute, or commercialize all the lyrics
'Cause it's about time one of y'all hear it
And hear it first-hand from the intelligent brown man
A vegetarian, no goat or ham
Or chicken or Turkey or hamburger
'Cause to me that's suicide self-murder
Let us get back to what we call hip hop
And what it meant to DJ Scott La Rock

How many mc's must get dissed
Before somebody says, don't with Kris
This is just one style, out of many
Like a piggy bank, this is one penny
My brother's name is Kenny, that's, Kenny Parker
My other brother I.C.U. is much darker
Boogie Down Productions is made up of teachers
The lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker

Who gets weaker? The king or the teacher
It's not about a salary it's all about reality
Teachers teach and do the world good
Kings just rule and most are never understood
If you were to rule or govern a certain industry
All inside this room right now would be in misery
No one would get along nor sing a song
'Cause everyone'd be singing for the king, am I wrong?

So yo, what's up, it's me again
Scott La Rock, KRS, BDP again
Many people had the nerve
To think that we would end the trend
We're criminal minded, an album which is only ten
Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records
No more than four minutes and some seconds

The competition checks and checks and keeps checkin'
They take the album, take it home, and start sweatin'
Why? well it's simple, to them it's kind of vital
To take KRS-One's title
To them I'm like an idol, some type of entity
In everybody's rhyme they wanna mention me?
Or rather mention us, me or Scott La Rock
But they can get bust get robbed, get dropped

I don't play around nor do I f around
And you can tell by the bodies that are left around
When some clown jumps up to get beat down
Broken down to his very last compound
See how it sounds? A little unrational
A lot of mc's like to use the word dramatical
Fresh for '88, you suckas

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4058b5d1b0b2baf754f4c5aa9ba21890

9mm Goes Bang - Lyrics - Boogie Down Productions

Title: 9mm Goes Bang
Artist: Boogie Down Productions
Composer(s): Krs-One Dj Scott La Rock

Lyric:
La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la
Buck, buck

Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
Listen to my 9 millimeter go bang
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
This is KRS-One

Me knew a crack dealer by the name of Peter
Had to buck him down with my 9 millimeter
He said I had his girl, I said "Now what are you? Stupid?"
But he tried to play me out and KRS-One knew it

He reached for his pistol but it was just a waste
'Cos my 9 millimeter was up against his face
He pulled his pistol anyway and I filled him full of lead
But just before he fell to the ground this is what I said

"Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
Listen to my 9 millimeter go bang
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
This is KRS-One"

La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la

Seven days later I was chillin' in the herb gate
But seven days too much when the gossip has to circulate
Puffin' sensemilla, I heard knock, knock, knock
But the way that they knocked it did not sound like any cop

And if it were a customer they'd ask me for a nick
So suddenly I realized it had to be a trick
I dropped down to the floor and they did not waste no time
They shot right through the door, so I had to go for mine

They pumped and shot again but the suckas kept on missin'
'Cos I was on the floor by now, I crawled into the kitchen
Thirty seconds later boy, they bust the door down
The money and the sensemi' was lyin' all around

But just as they put their pistols down to take a cut
Me jumped out the kitchen, went buck, buck, buck
They fall down to the floor but one was still alive
So I put my 9 millimeter right between his eyes

Looked at his potnah and both of them were dead
So just before he joined his potnah this is what I said

Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
Listen to my 9 millimeter go bang
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
This is KRS-One

La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la

I gathered all the money and I ran up the block
I said, "This is a perfect time to meet with Scott LaRock"
But Scott is either psychic or he has a knack for trouble
Cos Scott LaRock showed up in a all black BMW

I jumped inside the car and we screeched off in a hurry
And Scott said, "What is wrong? Relax, tell me the story"
I said, "You remember Peter? Well his posse tried to kill me
I'm all right now because the sensemi' fill me"

Scott just laughed, he said, "I know they're all dead
And just before you pulled the trigger this is what you said"

Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
Listen to my 9 millimeter go bang
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang, ay
This is KRS-One

La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la la la la la

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508a7bbed786fc4c8bc99112d850641c

Wannabemceez - Lyrics - KRS-One - Krs One

Title: Wannabemceez
Album: KRS-One
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker, S Samuel, D Burns, A Bing, K Edwards, S Nelson, Chris Martin

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
One two, testing one two
Alright party people in the place to be
The party has already started
And it's about to ill

Let me introduce you to another type of rapper MC
where glamor and glitter don't matter gently
I'm tired of the Chattanooga empty
Classical like a German luger
Deep like a tune for scuba diving who am I the hyper
Like I said, before my radar's going bibbit, bibbit
The microphone I grip it, grip it, lyric, lyric I live it
Hear it my spirit is where it should be

Don't push me if you pussy
I spot 'em, it seems you want to ride the dillz
I got em, KRS got skills in the place
I waste megahertz of bass bottom, chill
As I rock 'em and get ill, I build the perfect spot to kill
Verbal excitement will lead to your indictment
Whether or not you like it, still, number one I hype it
Your album, rewrite it

How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC
How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

Triplet syllables for minimal criminals
Lyrical riddles that got hard flavors in the middle
Sit back and chittle as I stand and still rebuild on skills
The admission of serial lyrics, calculated to weaken the spirit
Will be diverted by this lyric when you hear it
Ricochet any style any day
Any which way and you'll Cherish the Day like Sade
The advanced oratorical techniques I speak keep the heat at full peak

My grammar with stamina, grabs a rapper like the fresh catch of the day
And crack the back of that DJ, I'm strappin' and attackin' a pack
And whatever happens after that just happens, fact
Flamboyant and flashy is one point in time when you're not ashy
Focus on the syllable formats and the cash G
G for guard your grill, I'm hard to kill
Odd but ill, a job to fill is to refill on skills
We built and killed style and skill
While poetically recriminate you like a child I will

Get ill, and switch to earn 'cause I prefer to slur but not blur
Blurring you're stirring up trouble surely you don't need it
Be seated I'm undefeated dem not see it
Observe me then beat it

How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC
How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

Let's get back to the point quickly, get with me
The voice from New York City is too witty
I come from a era of 'OJ cars', Latin Quarter
Fake Gucci and fake Fendi, you can't send me
Nowhere, that I ain't been to
You can't tell me nuttin' that I ain't been through
Disrespect the teacher I gots to get you
'Cause they can't MC

But what you really sayin'
You sound like a bitch-ass rapper when he's saying
"Yo Kris you hit too hard" stop playing, switching and swaying
Day in and day out, your styles are played out, see you way out
Before you're laid out, your bright lights start to fade out
The last thing you heard is "Who let the K out?" 'No great area'
Everything is black and white we took the gray out it's scarier
Either you're winnin' or losin', spinnin' the rules of conscience

But lyrically there ain't no stoppin', I'm droppin' a lot in your noggin'
'Cause I know that you're lyrically starvin'
Carbon, your name, battle battle
Everybody wants to battle but you babble
Who knows ya, battlin' me, is the only way that you can gain exposure
I feel for ya soldier, I hate to say it but I told ya so
You know that I know the ancient flow KRS-One
Is the holder of a boulder yo, money folder yo
You want a fresh style let me show you slow your blow
I'm not your foe battling me? No, no, no, no, no, no, no

How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC
How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

If a DJ think he man den he better prepare for war
BDP crew get up in that ass like a piece of toilet tissue
General Lion I chase them all and I am on fiyah
Represent the hardest crew, you know how we do
Anything tess, dead, gun shot to dem head, gwan

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c96a5369f607d73820d87fddd8123b24

Live On The Mic - Lyrics - Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha - Kurupt

Title: Live On The Mic
Album: Tha Streetz Iz a Mutha
Artist: Kurupt
Composer(s): Priest Joseph Brooks, Ricardo Brown, Lawrence Parker

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Yeah, this is what you would call somethin' like
One of the things that, you know, when you meet your goal
You get to the top of the game and the dream come true
Kurupt and KRS-One freestyle

Yes, yes y'all, yeah, yeah y'all
(Uh)
KRS y'all, uh, huh, uh, huh
(Uh)
Yeah Kurupt, y'all
Time to check it out, uh, huh

Prophecy, y'all yes yes, y'all
(Yea)
KRS, y'all, uh, huh, like this y'all
(Yea)
You know what's up comin' through like that
(Haha)

I laugh at that, your whole premise is off
I'm blastin' that, somehow my foot is exactly where yo ass is at
Abusin' it, you know for 86 produce 77
I'm doin' to you on the other hand still kind of new to it

I spit lead into better men, you a veteran, ain't no tellin'
What I send to get them yet another one
My voice-box send shocks of adrenaline so you sweat again
(Unverified)

Then again I noticed that everybody
Think they can fuck with us but luckily I noticed
Everybody want to be close to us, tryin' to bust when they bust
I seen them they ain't treacherous and they ain't fuckin' with us

My style's out this universe, words that serve all these emcees
They hear pre-verbs I break them down to nouns and verbs
They know exactly what I do, I run through crew for crew
KRS, it's on you, baby

True underground, Boogey Down got them runnin' around
Comin' to town breakin' them all the way down
And makin' them frown, true underground

Not a class clown, copy, guilty ass, papi
I roll with the mash out posse
The beat down posse, terror squad
You'll find you was never hard

When the clip loads and I yell Flip-Mode
My faster, fresh blows, give my foes death blows
The best nose, goes live at breath shows

See I heard it before, word it before
Worded it before, before
Every emcee tried to serve it before

Be Kurupt the raw dog hog servin' all y'all
Fuck around with us the top dog
Murder all y'all, my minds incredible

I'm out this mind state, lookin' at me, oh my goodness
What rhymes he creates
Is he the best? Wonderin', nah, ain't no best
It's only me and KRS we don't need no vest, mothafucka

Uh, like that, yeah, uh, huh, like that, uh
(We gangstafied Kurupt and KRS-One on the mic, Yeah)

Comin' through in the studio live
KRS-One, yeah I'm still on Jive
But I represent emcees now out in

Yeah, no doubt, I be kurupt the raw dog and I'm droppin'
Every emcee from here to Compton
Raw dog, assassin when you see me comin' through, blastin
Don't matter no harrassin, they won't lastin'

The last round, the last nigga knocked down
Provocative sound, droppin' off round for round
And pound for pound, I be from the Dogpound
It's me a Kris, nigga you can eat my dick

I break them down so quick, you can't fuck with this
The lyricist poltergiest is way nice
Break and take them in freezers just like ice
Fuck around with me, O.G, yo, we so precise

You know the teacher's agenda
We will be here forever, you plottin' to surrender
Action start, you start tremor
Never lose my temper, when my temple member
You know the center of the dope beat, remember

Yea, yea, haha
Raw dog assassin style
KRS and kurupt
Yea, yea, y'all, uh, huh
Like this, like this

Yeah, we make them bounce, I make them bounce
We make them bounce, yo, I make them bounce
Yo, I blaze a ounce, yeah, I blaze a ounce
I'm gonna bounce to the ounce

When the homies come through
Dogpound we surround like we bustin' at you
I leave ya flat, homie
You wonderin, you lookin' back, homie
I leave you all alone, in the danger zone

Lookin' at Kurupt and didn't notice it was on
My homeboy, slittin', spreadin', begin the spreadin'
Niggas, who don't bust rhymes, niggas start beheadin'
Me and Kris, we do it just like this
Lyricist, niggas can't fuck with this

That's right y'all, you heard what the man said
KRS-One styles could never be dead
Thats why we still in-in the studio
Chillin' it's about three o'clock
And we representin' real hip-hop

Now you know what time it is
We got the camera in our face
KRS-One, all up in the fuckin' place
You know what time it is
We got to come back again

I got my friend, I can't remember his name again
But I'm gonna keep flowin', gonna keep showin'
Remember the skills that out the box

We be blowin', like that, yo Foxy you on the track
Come and get some'a that pass it right back
Now my man, Kurupt, on the mic like this
Now come back and represent beside the Kris

Clap your hands, get it all together then
See me come through, me and Kris
Tougher than leather and every emcee who come through
Be better than you, Claimin' they better than you
But we start severin' heads

Everybody lookin' at me I flows from the head
Leave them all dead, nigga, you heard what I said
Punk ass niggas, don't realize the game

Despisin' the game homeboy televisin' the game
Seen the game, so im televisin the game
Surprisin' the game, oh no, I'm risin' the game

They shook down they took down, shook like clowns
See me rockin' I be rockin' all around
Don't you know it, oh yeah, the poltergiest poet
Throw it, I show it, homeboy just don't blow it

Sit on the couch, with a joint in my mouth
Gettin' as high as can be, even though, they despisin' me
Realizin' I be makin' more money than Spike Lee

And that's my homie, O.G to me
Yo, Kris, we gonna do it like this
(Yeah?)
Drop them down, quick, and they can eat a dick

Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down production
Boogey Down, Boogey Down
Boogey Down, Boogey Down

Ha-ha ha-ha
(Byatch)
Yo we out, dog
(Bitch gangsta life, me and KRS-One on the mic)

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7ee2b99456fbb6b9e5eadc0d398f7520

P Is Still Free - Lyrics - Return Of The Boom Bap - Krs One

Title: P Is Still Free
Album: Return Of The Boom Bap
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Chris Martin, Lawrence Parker

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Ah yeah, all ruffneck rudebwoy hold tight
Just a little somethin' for the Jeep
Turn my voice up a little bit, let's get this started
Comin' to you live and direct from the 1986 version, comin' up to 1993
Of course, Premier on the beat, now check it out

The girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah
I said the girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah

Ridin' one day in a '92 Beamer
After seven years I seen Denise she still a skeezer
But look what she did, she went and had a kid, no dad
And just released her ass out the rehab

You think she'd act like she don't know
She's still a hoe but I'm checkin' my man for the show
Hi, DJ KRS
She tried to shake her butt, I rolled my window up

She got pissed and said, "You ain't all that"
And went and got some other girl schemin' for crack
In my car, I couldn't hear what they spoke about
I hit the accelerator and I was out

I never check my man but I knew the plan
Come to the jam MC's in there be thinkin' they Superman
Sure enough, the place is packed with no breeze
Crazy girls and wall to wall MC's

I'm like a cat these MC's are Fancy Feast
I'm thinkin' of rhymes but I'm interrupted by Denise
She said, "Kris, I really need a favor, honey
My girlfriend here really needs some quick money"

I looked at her girlfriend and her girlfriend was fly
But I ain't stupid, she had that look in her eye
I touched her back, she said, "Denise has he got the crack?
Is he the one? I gotta run back and feed my son"

I said, "How old is your son?" She said, "Three months"
I walked away but my man cold bust her fronts
So she pulled out a gun and shot him in the party
Except for the MC's, I knew everybody

She tried to let off a shot, one more time
But got stomped so bad, she turned to whine
No one could find Denise for several weeks
You know the time on this '93 beat

The girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah
I said the girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah

I knew a group that had a dope lead singer
Swinger, single guy, that knew his style was fly
After the show he was tired sweaty and kinda sloppy
But of course, a million girls are in the lobby

He saw a group of girls hangin' out and lookin' good
So he took one to his room because he knew he could
Inside the room he said, "Make love to me and never stop"
She said, "Sure, but how's about a crack rock?"

I knew my man down the hall had it all
So he called, down the hall but homeboy wasn't there at all
He turned to the girl and said, "My man ain't there"
So she let down her hair, unzipped his pants down right there

Oral sex in effect or rather deep throat
But just before he came she bit his dick and slit his throat
As he fell back dizzy, he began to choke
She took his wallet and said, "You ain't broke"

The girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah
I said the girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah

Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Yes, Premier you know you rule hip-hop
An' yes, Ced Gee you know you run hip-hop
An' yes, Kenny bwoy you run hip-hop
An' but KRS-One'll rock it non-stop

When I'm in Brooklyn, we rulin' hip-hop
When I'm in Jersey, we runnin' hip-hop
Over in Brazil yes, we rulin' hip-hop
Over in Germany, we rulin' hip-hop

But in New York, we rulin' y'all tonight badda-bye-bye-bye
In New York, we rulin' y'all tonight
We come to rock you whether you black or you white
'Cause KRS-One, you know I'm never frank, come catch the style

The girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah
I said the girlies is free 'cause the crack cost money, oh yeah

Boogie Down Productions
Boogie Down Productions
Boogie Down Productions
Boogie Down Productions
Boogie Down Productions

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7c1c1b37df5d1f11b40744c6c22420f5

Heartbeat - Lyrics - Krs One

Title: Heartbeat
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Mohandas Dewese, Robert Lamar Hill, Kevin Keaton, Reggie Noble, Lawrence Parker, B. Robinson

Lyric:
Alright everybody move back from the ropes
If you don't move back
We're gonna turn this music off
And that's my word, move back

Word is bond let's get this shit goin'
Word up, it's the Funk Doc in the house
Say hell yeah, hell yeah
Say fuck yeah, fuck yeah

Word up, it's the Funk Doc Spock you don't stop
It's my man KRS you don't stop
It's the girl Angie you don't stop
With the hah haha ha haha hah

It's the Butter Pecan Rican speakin' deletin'
Other radio jocks that think they competin'
They pre-sweetened like candy, I'm hot like pepper
Big up to Sandy but my name is Angie

Martinez, what a true microphone fiend is
Steppin' up lovely with my, Adidas
Through your speakers, representin'
Boriquas and all hip-hop rhyme seekers

You may think I'm crazy right but I'm crazy hype
Slay this nice y'all, everytime Angie grab the mic
I jams it right tonight, not the hardest
But peep the style of this Puerto Rican Goddess

Aiyyo yo yo yo, stop the music
Aiyyo back up off the ropes, man, word up
Yo get from the off the ropes
Now aiyyo yo yo, KRS-One, come again the selector

It's been a long time but we made it, you waited
You gettin' frustrated 'cause these MC's in trainin'
Skills on the mic for a royalty save it
Pullin' down rap so that others can't make it

They can't fake it in front of KRS they naked
That same old MC trend I'm here to break it
The highly conceptional multidirectional
Hot in ninety-seven so I guess I'm flexible

Rap relieve stress so yes I guess it's medical
All your wreckin' and rapin' is still theoretical
Redman, you know you must understand
Redman, you know you gots to understand

Angie, rockin' with the one BDP
Representin' right now at Hit Factory

One two hah and you don't quit
It's Kris and Angie with the ultimate
One two hah and you don't quack
It's Funk Doc smoke weed and don't smoke crack

Hahaha, hah and you don't quit
Hoohahhahah and you don't quit
I rock jams like, Samsonites with mics
Stage two boomin' system and flood the lights

The lyrical, fo'-fo's lettin' off like suppose
Reggie Reg is rockin' on the radio
Hahh, huh, the ooh-child too chill
Caps peeled, Someone In My Bed like Dru Hill

Raise 'em up 'cause I feel my spot can't be touched
No time for the Pauline jack, hit the clutch
Shotgun what? It's the high exalted
Ruler of the Buddha, the cash make my pockets

Stick out like a tumor, for the consumers
I get busy with La Pluma, detonate the bomb
To make you hibernate sooner, certified lunatic
My click run deeper than Charlie Tuna

Kahunas, raw for the able key movers
All over the hood like them Crooked I coolers
Bang maneuvers, from Jerz to Vancouver
Back to the Bronx with heartbeats ample looped up

I Blastmast like Kris, funk abyss
Like a phone chauvenist with a Roley on the wrist
Sike, I can afford it, less I slaughtered
Three platinum niggaz and none of 'em prerecorded

KRS-One need to be runnin' for office
So Butter Pecan Rican tell them to get off his

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653249e6770aec612d448ec3d9932048

I'M Still #1 - Lyrics - Boogie Down Productions

Title: I'M Still #1
Artist: Boogie Down Productions
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker

Lyric:
D.j. doc you know he's down with us
D-square, he's down with us
Keyboard money mike, is down with us
I.c.u., you know he's down with us
D-nice and mcboo, they're down with us
Ms. melodie, she's down with us
Just-ice and dmx, they're down with us
My manager moe, he's down with us
Castle-d boy, he's down with us
D.j. red alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one
People still takin' rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million mcs
I try to tell them, we're all in this together
My album was raw because no-one would ever
Think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue
What do you think makes up a krs?
Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking?
Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin' off-beat with a smile
Or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to
Bdp posse so I love to
Step in the jam and slam
I'm not superman, because anybody can
Or should be able to rock off turntables
Grab the mic, plug it in and begin
But here's where the problem starts, no heart
Because of that a lot of groups fell apart
Rap is still an art, and no-one's from the old school
'Cause rap is still a brand-new tool
I say no-one's from the old school 'cause rap on a whole
Isn't even twenty years old
Fifty years down the line, you can start this
'Cause we'll be the old school artists
And even in that time, I'll say a rhyme
A brand-new style, ruthless and wild
Runnin' around spendin' money, havin' fun
'Cause even then, I'm still number one

Blastmaster krs-one of course
Comes to express with style the lost
Ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present
Knock, knock, who is it?
A brand-new style, hup, time to change
People talk about me when they see me on stage
Live in action, guaranteed raw
I hang with the rich and I work for the poor
Now tomorrow you can say you saw
Krs-one stompin' once more
I play by ear, I love to steer
The alfa romeo from here to there
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
'Cause I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive
I'm not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin' because of my vocals
You know what you need to learn?
Old school artists don't always burn
You're just another rapper who's had his turn
Now it's my turn, and I am concerned
About idiots posing as kings
What are we here to rule?
I thought we were supposed to sing
And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach
Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak
Krs-one is something like a total renegade
Except I don't steal, I rhyme to get paid
Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin'
Politicians lyin', I'm tryin'
Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on
By bringin' out the truth in a song
So bdp, short for boogie down productions
Made a little noise 'cause the crew was sayin' somethin'
People have the nerve to take me for a gangster
An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster
Doin' petty crimes, goin' straight to penitentiary
But in a scale of crime that's really elementary
This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence
Why my last jam was so violent
It's simple bdp will teach reality
No beatin' around the bush, straight up, just like the p is free
So now you know, a poet's job is never done
But I'm never overworked, 'cause I'm still number one
Kool moe dee, he's down with us
Eric b. and rakim, they're down with us
Stetsasonic, they're down with us
Dana dane, he's down with us
Sleeping bag records, they're down with us
My lawyer jay, he's down with us
Jive/rca is down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one

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Bridge Is Over - Lyrics - A Retrospective - Krs One

Title: Bridge Is Over
Album: A Retrospective
Artist: Krs One
Composer(s): Lawrence Parker, Scott Larock

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Lyric:
I say, the bridge is over, the bridge is over, biddy, bye, bye
The bridge is over, the bridge is over, hey, hey
The bridge is over, the bridge is over, biddy, bye, bye
The bridge is over, the bridge is over

You see me come in any dance wid de spliff of sensei
Down with the sound called BDP
If you want to join the crew well you must see me
Ya can't sound like Shan or the one Marley

Because Shan and Marley Marl dem-a-rhymin' like they gay
Pickin' up the mic, mon, dem don't know what to say
Sayin' hip-hop started out in Queensbridge
Sayin' lies like that, mon, you know dem can't live

So I, tell them again, me come to tell them again, gwan
Tell them again, me come to tell them again
Tell them again, me come to tell them again, gwan
Tell them again, me come to tell them

Manhattan keeps on makin' it
Brooklyn keeps on takin' it
Bronx keeps creatin' it
And Queens keeps on fakin' it

Di di di da, di di di, di da di day, aiy
All you sucka MC, won't you please come out to play, 'cause
Here's an example of KRS-One, bo, here's an example of KRS-One
They wish to battle BDP, but they cannot
They must be on the dick of who? DJ Scott LaRock

'Cause, we don't complain nor do we play the game of favors
Boogie Down Productions comes in three different flavors
Pick any dick for the flavor that you savor
Mr. Magic might wish to come and try to save ya
But instead of helpin' ya out he wants the same thing I gave ya

I finally figured it out, Magic mouth is used for suckin'
Roxanne Shante is only good for steady fuckin'
MC Shan and Marley Marl is really only bluffin'
Like Doug E. Fresh said, "I tell you now, you ain't nuthin'"

Compared to Red Alert on KISS and Boogie Down Productions
So easy now man, I me say easy now mon
To KRS-One you know dem can't understand
Me movin' over there and then me movin' over here
This name of this routine is called Live At Union Square
Square, square, square, ooh

What's the matter with your MC, Marley Marl?
Don't know you know that he's out of touch
What's the matter with your DJ, MC Shan?
On the wheels of steel Marlon sucks

You'd better change what comes out your speaker
You're better off talkin' 'bout your wack Puma sneaker
'Cause Bronx created hip hop, Queens will only get dropped
You're still tellin' lies to me, everybody's talkin bout the Juice Crew funny
But you're still tellin' lies to me

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Nervous - Lyrics - Boogie Down Productions

Title: Nervous
Artist: Boogie Down Productions
Composer(s): Lawrence Krsone Parker

Lyric:
By All Means Necessary
Written, produced, directed by Blastmaster KRS-One
Mixed, by DJ Doc
And now it's time to get
(Nervous)

BDP is in full and total effect
I'm gonna shout out a couple of names
We're gonna do it like this
DJ Doc, Manager Moe, Ms. Melodie I.C.U, McBoo
(Nervous)

D Nice, Scott LaRock, KRS-One, I think that's me
And you know what? I'm down with BDP
(Nervous)

So right about this time
You should throw your hands up in the air
How many people got Nike's on?
If you got your Nike's on, put your feet up in the air

If you don't got Nike's on
I think you need to keep your feet down
'Cause the party is live
(Nervous)

And we're in total stereo, ya kno what I'm sayin'?
So all the suckers out there that wanna test
It's time to get
(Nervous)

And at this point, we gettin' a little stupid
I'd like to say, DJ Doc is in the back chillin' out
On the 48 track board without a doubt
Break it down Doc, like this
(Nervous)

I'd like to give a shout out to who?
Big Daddy Kane, Heavy D and Eric B
Melody, D-Square
(Nervous)

So just throw your hands in the air
Just throw your hands in the air
KRS-One is here without a care
And I don't have no fears homeboy
So all the suckers out there that wanna test BDP
It's time to get
(Nervous)

Now, here's what we do on the 48 track board
We look around for the best possible break
And once we find it, we just break
Or we just break
(Nervous)

There's two ways to do this, you see what I'm sayin'?
If you feel the board, you feel around
We got tracks one to track 48
We find track seven and break it down
(Nervous)

Okay, this album has been funded
By the Blastmaster KRS-One Fund
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
You know what? We're gettin'
(Nervous)

Okay, we gon' play a little game
Break it down Doc
Like this or like this
(Nervous)

You know what? I used to be a graffiti artist
I used to write KRS-One all over the place
All up in Soundview, in Brooklyn
Then when the cops come for you, ha, ha, ha
You just get
(Nervous)

And another thing
Me and my crew, we made hit records all over the place
But we left B-Boy Records
And you know what happened after that point?
Ha, ha, they just got
(Nervous)

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