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| 1. |
| 5:03 | 
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Well now you're forced to listen to the teacher and the lesson
Class is in session so you can stop guessin If this is a tape or a written down memo See I am a professional, this is not a demo In fact call it a lecture, a visual picture Sort of a poetic and rhythm-like mixture Listen, I'm not dissin but there's somethin that you're missin Maybe you should touch reality, stop wishin For beats with plenty bass and lyrics said in haste If this meaning doesn't manifest put it to rest I am a poet, you try to show it, yet blow it It takes concentration for fresh communication Observation, that is to see without speaking Take off your coat, take notes, I am teachin a class, or rather school, cause you need schooling I am not a king or queen, I'm not ruling This is an introduction to poetry A small dedication to those that might know of me They might know of you and maybe your gang But one thing's for sure, neither one of y'all can hang Cause yo I'm like a arrow, and Scott is the crossbow Say something now ... thought so You seem to be the type that only understand The annihilation and destruction of the next man That's not poetry, that is insanity It's simply fantasy far from reality Poetry is the language of imagination Poetry is a form of positive creation Difficult, isn't it? The point? You're missin it Your face is in front of my hand so I'm dissin it Verse Two: KRS-One Scott LaRock is innovating, decorating hip-hop The beat may drop but not like all the others They just cover while I just smother Every single stupid mutha -- wait wait brotha KRS-One will have to show another MC or self-proclaimed king or queen Or gang or crew or solo or team That I mean Business So tell me what is this? See I come from the Bronx so just kiss this Boogie Down Productions is somewhat an experiment The antidote for sucka MC's and they're fearin it It's self-explanatory, no one's writin for me The poetry I'm rattlin is really not for battlin But if you want I will simply change the program So when I'm done you will simply say "damn" So this conversation is somewhat hypothetical Boogie Down Productions attempts to prove somethin I say hypothetical because it's only theory My theory, so take a minute now to hear me Verse Three: KRS-One So what's your problem? It seems you want to be KRS-Two From my point of view, backtrack, stop the attack Cos KRS-One means simply one KRS That's it, that's all, solo, single, no more, no less I've built up my credential financially and mental Anytime I rhyme I request the instrumental I speak clearly and that's merely Or should I say a mere, help to my career I'm really not into fashion or craze Just the one who pays and how soon I get a raise You're probably in a daze, acting out of sympathy Wrote a couple of rhymes and think that you can get with me But what a pity, I'm rockin New York City And everywhere else, you put the jams on the shelf You as an amateur is outspoken I'm looking at your face, you seem to be hopin That I might stutter, stop, or just mess up But everything's live that's why I don't dress up "Blastmaster KRS" a synonym for "fresh" I'm the teacher of the class, I do not pass no test Got DJ Scott LaRock by my side, not in back of me Cos we make up the Boogie Down Productions crew faculty Get it right, or train yourself not to bite Cos when you bite you have bitten, when I hear it, that's it I do not contemplate a battle cause it really ain't worth it I'd rather point a pistol at your head and try to burst it I'm teaching poetry I'm teaching poetry Scott LaRock We're teaching po-e-try |
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| 2. |
| 5:11 |
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Scott La Rock: Yo, wassup Blastmaster KRS-ONE. This jam is kickin'
KRS: Word! Yo, what-up D-Nice? D-Nice: Yo, wassup Scott La Rock? SLR: Yo man, we chillin' this funky fresh jam. I wanna tell you a little somethin' about us. We're the Boogie Down Productions crew and due to the fact that no-one else out there knew what time it was, we have to tell you a little story about where we come from... South Bronx, the South South Bronx (4X) Many people tell me this style is terrific It is kinda different but let's get specific KRS-One specialized in music I'll only use this type of style when I choose it Party people in the place to be, KRS-One attacks Ya got dropped off MCA cause the rhymes you wrote was wack So you think that hip-hop had it's start out in Queensbridge If you popped that junk up in the Bronx you might not live Cause you're in... South Bronx, the South South Bronx (4X) I came with Scott LaRock to express one thing I am a teacher and others are kings If that's a title they earn, well it's well deserved, but without a crown, see, I still burn You settle for a pebble not a stone like a rebel KRS-One is the holder of a boulder, money folder You want a fresh style let me show ya Now way back in the days when hip-hop began With CoQue LaRock, Kool Herc, and then Bam Beat boys ran to the latest jam But when it got shot up they went home and said "Damn There's got to be a better way to hear our music every day Beat boys gettin blown away but comin outside anyway" They tried again outside in Cedar Park Power from a street light made the place dark But yo, they didn't care, they turned it out I know a few understand what I'm talkin about Remember Bronx River rollin thick With Kool DJ Red Alert and Chuck Chillout on the mix When Afrika Islam was rockin the jams And on the other side of town was a kid named Flash Patterson and Millbrook projects Casanova all over, ya couldn't stop it The Nine Lives Crew, the Cypress Boys The real Rock Steady takin out these toys As odd as it looked, as wild as it seemed I didn't hear a peep from a place called Queens It was seventy-six, to 1980 The dreads in Brooklyn was crazy You couldn't bring out your set with no hip-hop Because the pistols would go... So why don't you wise up, show all the people in the place that you are wack Instead of tryna take out LL, you need to take your homeboys off the crack Cos if you don't, well, then their nerves will become shot And that would leave the job up to my own Scott LaRock And he's from... South Bronx, the South South Bronx (8X) The human TR-808, D-Nice The poet, the Blastmaster KRS-ONE The Grand Incredible DJ Scott La Rock Boogie...Down...Productions Fresh for '86, suckers! (Ha ha ha ha ha) |
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| 3. |
| 4:20 |
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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! Chorus: 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... Verse 1: 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... Repeat chorus La la-la la-la la-la la...la...la...la La la-la la-la la-la la..la..la...la...la x2 Verse 2: 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... Repeat chorus La la-la la-la la-la la...la...la...la La la-la la-la la-la la..la..la...la...la x2 Verse 3: 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..." Repeat chorus La la-la la-la la-la la...la...la...la La la-la la-la la-la la..la..la...la...la x2 |
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| 4. |
| 3:55 |
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This is a test
Of the Boogie Down Production Prevention Against Sucka MC's In the event of a real emergency You would have been instructed On which jams to play And how loud to blast your radio And now, a word from our sponsor Verse One: I'm from the Bronx, Blastmaster KRS-One Provin that my job ain't done until I get some More, no need to roar or yell Cos I can still tell what will sell And would have sold without yellin over a drum roll That style is old, so unfold Blossom, bloom, you got the room So go ahead and consume A new era, KRS-One comes better Bite another lyric? Never Cos I'm too clever, however I own my own label Partners with Scott LaRock, he's on the turntable And partner Lee Smith I'm exercising a true gift just to uplift Hip-hop, hip-hop My voice is like a monster And now a word from our sponsor Verse Two: Two, three, four, five, sex, seven, eight, nine, ten I gotta start this rhyme again How many words can I find that rhyme And still keep in mind every lyric must come out on time Not many but I have plenty Scott LaRock sent me just to devastate any- One, any daughter, any son that comes my way Hey, you got to go the other way I represent my DJ Scott LaRock D-Nice, the beat box I only wear Nike's, not Adidas or Reeboks Many people know me, yet I'm known by few My name is KRS-One, son Not two or three or four or five or six The mix is on Scott LaRock and Scott LaRock is on the mix Verse Three: Cool like the air we breathe Inhale, exhale, perpetrators will fail As sure as my name is "Blastmaster KRS" Sit and listen to the very essence of this tale From the days of prison I have uprisen To my family members I'm marked down as missin Listen, circumstances put me right in the street With the will to survive, get paid, eat, and sleep Some weep, or should I rather say some cry Can't get by so later on they die Because the strong will survive The weak will perish Ignorance is a poison and knowledge will nourish I love what I got and like what I had I'm glad, not sad, and I don't even get mad I get even, myself and some others I believe in Cos these others are my brothas and perfection we're achievin Yes, my name is KRS, my brother is a Rasta Let me pause, and now a word from our sponsor |
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| 5. |
| 4:07 |
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Verse 1:
I hear the same old rhyme, the same old style The same old runner has ran the mile See, I don't know exactly what you know But what I know is that stuff gotta go Usually when I pick up the mic Something ill jumps out my mouth for that night I like to talk about fact not fiction I got some fantasy rhymes but just listen Everything I write is premeditated Suckas wanna fake it, I just hate it Bitin routines or sayin somethin kinda weak My words are comprehended every time I speak Or have spoken, no I'm not jokin Please don't sleep, I hope you are awoken Stop! Try this again, you had enough? Say when I am the man with the six-pack of Heineken I get tipsy But never in your life try to dis me Cos I don't battle with rhymes, I battle with guns Knowledge reigns supreme over nearly every one If you take the first letter of what I just sung You spell my name "KRS-One" It's elementary Elementary Verse 2: DJ Scott LaRock and I: KRS-One Our mother's first son and no, we'll never run From complex situations like you T-O-Y-S's Always talkin junk, yet in jail, you're rockin dresses I have arrived for the purpose of joy Unlike any ordinary Bronx b-boy I will volunteer my services and launch an attack On you fake educators with your yakety-yak This is a fact, the teacher is here now in the flesh Consistently hounded by you MC pests If you really want to learn from me Don't waste time in burnin me Cos ignorance and inexperience does not concern me I will emphasize so you will realize and come alive Never close your eyes, never sleep or you might take a dive Many people hate me, many people love me Some are far below me And you know there's some above me But this, my hypothesis, to conclude the story All you fake MC's on a mission, you bore me I'm the Blastmaster KRS on the mic Watchin all these females rock their pants too tight Cos there's no other creative composition on display That give a full analysis and rock this way You will pay, eventually you all will decay While the DJ Scott LaRock will continue to play Cuttin records, drivin cars, and you'll know who we are Make a mix just for kicks And you'll be on our tip And, oh yes, there's a highlight to the show, of course You hear DJ Scott LaRock (Go off! Go off!) (Scott La Rock) (Go off! Go off!) x8 Verse 3: Boogie Down Productions, no reduction to its title If you have a headache, toys, go and take a Midol We have arrived for the purpose of enjoyment You have arrived to make up for unemployment You're on it only cos I learned just how to flaunt it I breathed a rhyme upon you like a sickness and you caught it Quick, get off the tip, trick, you must be sick Like a doctor here's my bill, I wrote it out with a Bic Signed my name upon the bottle cos you know I just rocked em But gettin into battles really isn't my thing You're probably thinking these are the rhymes for the century But please don't mention me It's only elementary Elementary All it really is to me and Scott La Rock...is elementary Elementary Elementary |
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| 6. |
| 5:16 |
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[KRS] I got a dope beat?
[all] You got a dope beat [KRS] I got a dope beat.. [all] We got a dope beat [KRS] I got a DOPE beat.. [all] You got a dope beat [KRS] I got a DOPE BEAT!! [all] WE GOT A DOPE BEAT!! My name is at the top of all of those that mix I'm turnin poetry into cash for eighty-seven Some did it got paid, some jams were never played But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade go by, and why? Cause they wasn't fly Others claim to be fresh, but they're not KRS I cannot walk around the street, with my head in the clouds Either runnin on my gear, or havin colors too loud Everything must coincide with the way I feel And by the way, it's Scott LaRock on the wheels of steel So I take one step, to adjust the mic I get around the whole city so I do wear Nike I like a funky beat, a studio like Unique I write the crazy fresh lyrics and I don't eat meat You can look me up and down, and my DJ too Because we make up the Boogie Down Productions crew Takin out MC's - on the 1, 2, 3 No matter who they claim to be in society Because we know their games, we have pulled their file If they need a different style we can get wild He's I.C.U., he's out to kill I'm KRS, and we get ill DJ Scott LaRock got his own beat The extravagant life, is what we seek I will tell you like this, cause I know for a fact I will live a long life, and I don't smoke crack Captivatin the crowd, seven days a week You know what they told me to say? I got the dope beat [KRS] I got a dope beat [all] You got a dope beat [KRS] I got the DOPE beat [all] We got a dope beat [KRS] I got a dope beat? [all] You got a dope beat [KRS] I got a DOPE BEAT!! [all] WE GOT THE DOPE BEAT!! For me to say again another verse of my rhyme Means what you heard before must've blew up your mind So now it's time, to find, poetry like mine Do not waste all your time because I'm one-of-a-kind Pullin out, easy goin cause the money be flowin 6'4", brown eyes, and I'm always showin stupid MC's on the mic the way it 'posed to be done They study rhymes all week, but I be rhymin for fun When they lose they get upset, always pullin a gun But they will snap out of that, because I'm KRS-One Not two, not three, but O-N-E Get it right the first time I won't repeat this rhyme If you think that you can burn me with your amateur ways keep in mind that I been out there, from back in the days I don't braaaaaaaaag, about the people I know Because they're still bluffin, they're not givin me nothin I can walk around the city with the rhymes I flaunt Cause no matter how you front they're still the ones you want See, I am funky fresh and poetry is my opinion Takin out you suckers while the Scott LaRock is spinnin! .. *guitar interlude* .. My name is KRS-One, I'm still kinda young I don't wear Adidas cause my name ain't Run Got Nike's on my feet, and to be complete I can rock an American or reggae beat Got rhymes for 70's, 80's, and 90's Not bein conceited but it won't pay to try me out to any feud, any battle, any reason Make the rhymes up every season this style I'm just teasin Pick up the pace, homeboy, pick up the pace You're way behind schedule, listen to what I'm tellin you This particular style may vary The things I converse about are heard rarely Some can't bear me, others try to scare me Soundin intelligent but not yet equivalent!! You know what?? [all] You got a dope beat [KRS] I got a dope beat! [all] We got a dope beat [KRS] I got the dope beat? [all] You got the dope beat [KRS] I got the DOPE BEAT! [all] WE GOT THE DOPE BEAT! [KRS] I've got the dope beat! [all] You've got the dope beat [KRS] I got the dope beat! [all] We got the dope beat [KRS] Beat that we got?? [all] THE DOPE BEAT! I.C.U., is in the house... Miss Melodie, is in the house... Lena Love, is in the house... D-Nice, rocks the house... Gold Miss Idol, rocks the house... Flavois Walker, turns em out... 40th Street Black, knocks em out... To my mellow Moses Gun, rock the house... Naughty, bust it out... McBoo, turns it out... Chuck Chillout, cuts it up... Red Alert, breaks it out... Scott LaRock Jr.. My pride and joy... KRS-One.. his mother's first son And no he'll never run... BD... BD... Scott LaRock... Scott LaRock |
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| 7. |
| 4:21 |
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Yes, Scott LaRock you know you rule hip-hop
Yes, Mr. Lee you can rule hip-hop And, B-57 you can rule hip-hop But, KRS-One rule it non-stop When I'm in Brooklyn, yes, we rulin hip-hop When I'm in Manhattan, we rulin hip-hop When I'm in Queens, we rulin hip-hop And when in Staten Island we rulin hip-hop But in the Bronx, we rulin y'all tonight But in the Bronx, we rulin y'all tonight We come to rock you whether you're Black or you're white Cos KRS-One you know I'm never ?frank? Come catch a star The girlies are free Cos the crack costs money Oh yeah I say the girlies are free Cos the crack costs money Oh yeah Ridin one day on my freestyle fix Jammin to a tape Scott LaRock had mixed I said to myself 'This tape sound funky' Ridin past the 116th Street junkie Thought I saw Denise but I was only assumin Took another look and that butt was boomin Did a little trick on my freestyle fix And I was right beside the girl, she was all on the tip She said 'Hi, DJ KRS' She kissed me on my neck so I gave her a peck She said 'I'm really in a hurry so I cannot wait If you give me a life while we ride to the ?bait?' She jumped on my bike, I said 'Huh, what's your stop?' She said 'Right around the corner to the crack spot If you buy me a crack I'll know how to act But if you don't, you might as well step back' I said 'Now how the hell we jump off to this? I'm doin you a favor, I'm givin you a lift' She said 'KRS, you know it goes' I said 'Yeah, you little.....it seems that you're a hoe' I did a little trick on my freestyle fix And she was right on the ground lookin after it Because... A girl tried to take my out one day For a play, not your everyday ?trey? We walked to the spot, she says she want a rock I looked in my pocket, didn't have a lot I said 'You better get yourself a job' She tried to tell me that times were hard I told the hoe, I said 'Yo, that's not my fault You need a vault', I'm out to assault Any girl I find who try to take my for mine I'm gonna have to ?pin? it just another time But... |
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| 8. |
| 3:27 |
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Intro:
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 Verse One: 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 that 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 agaaain Tell them again, me come to tell them again, gwan! Tell them again, me come to te-ell them Manhattan keeps on makin it, Brooklyn keeps on takin it Bronx keeps creatin it, and Queens keeps on fakin it Verse Two: Di-di di-da, di di-di, dida 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, ooooooooooooooooooooooo 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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| 9. |
| 5:31 |
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[Phone ringing]
Scott: Yo, Kris. I really knocked the boots on those two big-butt females last night. Kris: Jeeez! Scott: Yeah, man. I'm on my way down to Latin Quarter to find two more freaks... Kris: Word... [Super Sperm] Chorus: repeat 2X Scott LaRock had em all He is the Super Hoe [Super Sperm] Verse One: KRS-One Scott LaRock is for now the main topic Not looking at his cuts or cash flow of the pocket You may not realize it or you may not know But, uh... (He is the Super Hoe) When I say super I'm not exaggeratin Datin for a guy like Scott turns into matin He seems to be quiet but I don't buy it Proof is in the puddin, why don't you just try it The Super Hoe is loose in your section And he's armed with a powerful erection So grab your girl and run for protection Your momma too, cause I like to mention Chorus [Super Sperm] 4X Verse Two: KRS-One Whatever you could do or say inside a bed Scott LaRock has done and most likely said He doesn't argue with a girl cause yes, he has others Keep updated on all kind of rubbers Got ones that are lambskin, others that are plastic One day he'll open a school for prophylactics They don't know... (He is the Super Hoe) Up in Rochester on DKX WDKX, now DK-Sex We were bein interviewed there live on air Every girl in the city Scott had an affair KM in the AM had asked his last question But Scott LaRock said "Wait, I gotta mention The fact that I'm single, I like to mingle" And one more time bust the fresh jingle Chorus [Super Sperm] 4X Verse Three: KRS-One In the field of music I'll always pass by Girls that claim to act so fly They always act like it's all about them or their friends But according to Scott, they all like to bend Yes, fly girls, shy girls, black girls, white girls In eighty-seven it's got to be the right girl If you claim to have a little problem Well, Scott LaRock knows just how to solve em If you're a guy a nine'll do the trick But if you're a girl, you need some... flowers I admit Scott has strange powers Enticing girls in less than an hour Or should I say minutes? I seen how he did it He probably says "I'm Scott LaRock" and she's with it So whether he's a gigolo, tramp, or pro... (He is the Super Hoe) Now many people have their ways of expressin what they do best, for Scott it's undressin Yes, either a girl or some date for the night He doesn't want to hear that you're too tight So do not think that Scott LaRock is mean It's not his fault, he'll give you Vaseline The Super Hoe is loose in your area Makin life for girls a little scarier So if you got a radio tryin to tape this Do not keep in mind that he is a rapist For the Super Hoe to be chillin Another female out there has to be willin So all you tramps and hoes raise your hand Cos Super Hoe Scott LaRock understands If you're a guy we'll talk about hangin And if you're a girl he'll talk about bangin If your moms call up, well, I don't know But uh... (He is the Super Hoe) Chorus [Super Sperm] 8X Chorus 3X [Super sperm] |
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| 10. |
| 5:20 |
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Intro: (sung by KRS-One to the tune of the Beatles "Let It Be")
Boogie Down Productions will always get paid We'll take the wackest song and make it better Remember to let us into your skin Cause then you'll begin, to master Rhymin rhymin rhymin Verse One: KRS-One Criminal minded, you've been blinded Lookin for a style like mine you can't find it They are the audience, I am the lyricist Sometimes the suckas on the side gotta hear this Page, a rage, and I'm not in a cage Free as a bird to fly up out on stage Ain't here for no frontin just to say a little somethin Ya suckaz don't like me cause you're all about nothin However, I'm really fascinating to the letter My all-around performance gets better and better My English grammar comes down like a hammer You need a style, I need to pull your file I don't beg favors, you're kissing other people's --- I write and produce myself just as fast Keep my hair like this, got no time for Jheri curls Attractin only women, got no time for little girls [KRS sings again] Cause girls look so good but their brain is not ready, I don't know I'd rather talk to a woman cause her mind is so steady, so here we go I'm not a musical maniac or b-boy fanatic I simply made use of what was upstairs in the attic I've listened to these MC's back when I was a kid But I bust more shots than they ever did I mean this is not the best of KRS, it's just a section But how many times must I point you in the right direction You need protection, when I'm on the mic Because my mouth is like a 9 millimeter windpipe You're a king, I'm a teacher You're a b-boy, I'm a scholar If this was a class, well it would go right under drama See kings lose crowns but teachers stay intelligent Talkin big words on the mic but still irrelevant Especially when you're not, college material Wake up every morning to your Lucky Charms cereal DJ Scott LaRock has a college degree Blastmaster KRS writes poetry I won't go deeper in the subject cause that gets me bored It's a shame to know some MC's on the mic are fraud Sayin styles like this to create a diss But if you listen, who you dissin? See I am a musician Rappin on the mic like this to me is fine Cause if I really want to battle I will put out a nine You can see that Scott LaRock and I are mentally binded In other words we're both Criminal Minded Verse Two: KRS-One We're not promoting violence, we're just havin some fun He's Scott LaRock, I'm KRS-One Never off-beat cause it don't make sense Grab the microphone, relaxed and not tense You waited, debated, and now you activated A musical genius that could not be duplicated See I have the formula for rockin the house If you cannot rock a party do not open your mouth It's that simple, no phony cosmetics to your pimple Take another look because the gear is not wrinkled The K, the R, the S, the O, the N, the E Sayin rhyme for eighty-seven not from 1983 Well versed, to rehearse, and my rhymes are my curse Originality come first but the suckers get worse Allow me to include I have a very stable mood Poetic education of a high altitude I'm not an MC, so listen, call me poet or musician A genius when it comes to making music with ambition I'm cool, collected with the rhyme I directed Don't wanna be elected as the king of a record Just respected by others as the man with the solution An artist of the 80's came and left his contribution on wax, relax, there's 24 tracks After years of rocking parties now I picked up the knack Because everything that flows from out my larynx Takes years of experience and bottles of Beck's I cannot seem to recollect the time I didn't have sex Is it real or is it Memorex? I'm livin in a city known as New York State Sucka MC's gotta wait while I translate I hang with real live dreads with knowledge in their heads People with ambition and straight up musicians Although our lives have been so uprooted I have it included, you all get zooted So take each letter of the KRS-One Means Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone You look at me and laugh, but this is your class It's an all-out discussion of the suckas I be crushin So now you are awakened to the music I be makin Never duplicated, and also highly cultivated Don't get frustrated cause nothin has been traded Only activated, it came out very complicated Not separated, from my DJ You see my voice is now faded I'll see you folks around the way Criminal minded... |
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| 11. |
| 6:50 | 
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