KRS-One - Return Of The Boom Bap (2000) by KRS-One (보컬) on maniadb.com

Justin is the pimp on the block
he smacks and cracks around hoes alot
every day around 3 o'clock
you can hear all the nasty talk
he loves the dizease infested little whores
whose mouths and things are covered with herpes sores
he brags to the public about how he scores
with 12 year old girls behind convinience stores
his brain is gone from smoking crack
he lost his hair, it won't grow back
he carries around a burlap sack
and searches around for a needle to slap
hes a drug addicted little boy
who infests your town with disease
don't play around with his toy
if you don't want it to burn when you pee

Back in the days I knew rap would never die
I used to listen to Awesome-2 on WHBI
I used to hear all kind of rap groups
before sampling loops
Rappers wore bell-bottom Lee suits
Me and Kenny couldn't afford that
So we would go to the park
when they was jammin' to hear rap
I used to listen till the cops broke it up
I always thought to myself
Damn, why they fucked it up?
But never the less
I was in love with the microphone
And it stayed that way until I left home
On the streets of New York, now I'm free
But with freedom comes big responsibility
I used to walk around driven by the force
I remember how large Super
Rhymes was when he fell off
I used to wonder about crews that used to rock
They were large, but none of them
could manage to stay on top
Do you ever think about when you outta here
Record deal and video outta here?
Mercedes Benz and Range Rover outta here
No doubt BDP is old school, but we ain't goin
After livin' on the streets alone
Some years went by,
I signed myself into a group home
I used to watch the show I Dream of Jeannie
And dreamt about
When will I be large like Whodini
But I was messin' with graffiti on the subway
And gettin' chased by the cops almost everyday
I knew it had to bea better way see
So I would go to my room, blast RUN DMC
Around 1984 I left the group home, again alone
Still dreamin' about the microphone
Gimme a chance man, I know I can rock it
But I had to worry
about puttin' money in my pocket
So when I reached the shelter
I met my helper DJ Scott La Rock
And we both loved hip-hop
I was takin' suckas out in the shelter system
Yeah there was rappers
in the shelter but I had to diss 'em
But all along, my vision was never lost
I kept seeing all these rap groups fallin' off
Do you ever think about when you're outta here
Fly girl and fresh gear outta here?
Five-thousand dollar love seat outta here
No doubt BDP is old school but we ain't goin
While I'm battling these rival crews
Yes, BDP would stay in the street news
Some said all they wanna do is battle
They can't write a song,
so their careers won't last long
Around this time I used to hang with Ced Gee
And DJ Scott La Rock used to buy gold with Eric B
I didn't meet Rakim till later with Scott
I remember we were jammin' at the rooftop
It used to irk me when these critics had opinions
Scott would say Just keep rappin',
I'll keep spinnin
We had a fucked up contract but we signed it
And dropped the hip-hop album Criminal Minded
We told the critics your opinions are bull
Same time Eric B and Rakim dropped Paid in Full
Hip-hop pioneers we didn't ask to be
But right then hip-hop changed drastically
People didn't wanna hear the old rap sound
We started samplin' beats by James Brown
In the middle of doin' My Philosophy
Scott was killed and that shit got to me
But knowin' the laws of life and death
I knew his breath, was one with my breath
I had nothin' left and it was scary
So I dropped By All Means Necessary
Another hip-hop group that was a friend of me
Was a revolution crew called Public Enemy
It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
These two albums set off consciousness in rap
But all along, I'm still lookin' around
And all I can see are these rap groups fallin down
Do you ever think about when you outta here
Condominium and beach house outta here?
Credit cards and bank accounts outta here?
No doubt BDP is old school, be we ain't goin

Adjust that treble right now adjust the bass
Turn it up, stop frontin
C'mon, turn it up
Alright, check it out ninety-three lyrics, here we go
Bo!

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

Are you tired of lyrical liars, passing fliers
Wannabe MC's, but really good triers
Tripping over mic cords, getting you bored
A total fraud, this kind of thing I can't afford, so I
pick up the mic and kill it ill it top bill it
The cough is a skillet, where MC's get fried in it
You got beef chill it, blood I spill it
After seven long years of ripping the party and I'm still widdit
You call my name I don't think about suing ya
I come to the club with that BOOYAKA
Laughing while I'm doin ya the crowd is booin ya
Gimme one month, record for record on tape I'll ruin ya
Some likkle awl pon sound bwoy wan fi rule de city
His style is lookin pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibby
Here comes the rootical ratical teacha
I'll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya teeth chatter
You'll be goin through convulsions as I flash data
Any rapper can be a decapitated rapper now what's the matter
You're full of more junk than a sausage
Let me show you what a real hip-hop artist

*DJ Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

Of course yeah I'm the most brilliant recording artist in your life
Never have to repeat a rhyme style twice, precise
In a lyrical drought like water to your lips oh yes my lyrics will suffice
I'm nice, like beans and rice, I am delicious
Who's the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don't want to fuck with Kris is
Lyric for lyric rhyme for rhyme style for style I break you like dishes
Either you come fully correct or the lyrics you simply makin wishes
We got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin wishes
youse a fraud, I mean a fraud like in fraudulation
I know what it is, the crown of rhyme supremacy you're tastin
And yes, before the flavor hits your greedy tongue
You get ripped up by KRS-One
Now, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, from the lyrical terrorist
Here's a little somethin for you all to remember Kris, and remember this
I am no pessimist, more of an optimist
Activist revolutionist, yes the hardest artist
And the smartest, Premier, spark this

*Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*

I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic

Intro
What I want you to do is count to ten.
Nine eight seven six five four three two
on one you will be asleep.
One

Chorus
I'm a blunt gettin smoked and I can't wake up
I'm a blunt gettin smoked and I can't wake up
I'm a blunt gettin smoked and I can't wake up
I'm a blunt gettin smoked and I can't wake up

Verse
I'm dreaming about being a blunt
I'm running around and I just can't wake up, Hah!
I'm dreaming about being a blunt. Ho!
I'm walking around and I just cant wake up.

I'm tryin to wake up, I cant wake up
So I run and jump
someone yelled get that blunt.
Get that blunt, now Im thinking this is major
I've got a bunch of people chasing me with a razor
I dont like this dream as a blunt
But I can't get out of it
And I cant seem to wake up
So Im running and racing
Blunt smokers are chasing
This is insane, I'm caught by House Of Pain
I'm picked up
they said they gonna put my head out
They slit my back and all the tobacco fell out
Now I'm hollowed wet thin and yes ready
They poured the shumpang gently and rewet me
Check it out now, in the same attire
here comes the fire
Now they lit it, now Im burning by the minute
But check it out
more heads came to chill
Everlast took a pull and passed me to Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill took a pull
lungs are full, who's next?
I'm being passed to Das Efx
As they took a mad pull, smoke blows in heaps
It's really smokey but I can still see Black Sheep
Woe! Black Sheep gets me, relights me
Room is proper, Im passed off to Shabba
Shabba's voice gets low like a tuba
he said, "Me no folllow no rumor"
and passed me to Grand Puba
I wasnt burnin right so Puba got mad at me
And said who rolled this
and passed me to Kid Capri
Kid Capri said "I wont front
pass it to Redman, he knows how to roll a blunt"
Redman said no need to re-roll
and passed me to De La Soul
De La Soul took a hit and kept hittin
now they're buggin cause they passed me to Bill Clinton
Bill Clinton said I'll smoke but I won't inhale
I'll only hit it twice
he got slapped by Greg Nice
Now I fell on the floor, Greg Nice picked me up
I'm a blunt being smoked and I can't wake up

Chorus

Verse
Get me out of this, somebody wake me up
I'm still on fire and Im still being smoked up
half my body is gone, now they're coming to my head
now my head is being pinched by Ted-D-Ted
A crazy nightmare i got to go
I got to wake up and Im passed off to Yo-Yo
Yo-Yo gets respect as a lady
She didnt smoke
She passed me off to Showbiz and A.G.
A.G. said respect due see
he got one big pull and passed me to Smooth B.
Smooth B. although he's talking to Ted-D
took a hit and passed me to Fab 5 Freddy
Freddy said Yo! There's nothing left Pop
Looked at me in my face and passed me to Chubb Rock
Chubb Rock said "Yo Freddy chill!
If you ever catch me smoking, just kick me in the grill"
Im in the mouth yo! I cant wake up
Yo! Im a blunt getting smoked and I can't wake up

Chorus

Intro
~~~~~

[D.J. Premier]

Tellin' it like it is, right about now D.J. Premier is in the
motherfuckin' house and shit, ya know what I'm sayin'? But yo,
yo Kris, run that shit, ya know what I'm sayin'? That, that shit,
my joint. Run that motherfucker...it's only right kid...

[KRS-One]

(Do it, do it, do it...)

Drop that bassline...
You want lyrics? We give ya lyrics. Check it out now, one time...

(Do it, do it, do it...)

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!
Gal! Will ya come slap dem up

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!
Ill Will, slap dem up

Verse
~~~~~

[Ill Will]

MC's get ate, get broken like a pretzel
and get dissed if they ever try to step to
They can't take a MC with loose lips
Talk a lotta shit [but sink no motherfuckin' ships]
Lyrics make bigger holes than hollow tips
Watch another rapper body get stiff
Just like in church, we pass the basket
as I preach over his casket
Fuck it, kick the body right over
and say "See ya, hmm...nice to know ya"
Got another rapper to see
Yo Kris, bust that ass [certainly]

[KRS-One]

If you're shiverin' get off the pot
Let the original rapper rock the spot
You stand there and jock, goin' [mumbles]
This is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to Kris
Chattin' foolishness, step along quick with that stupidness
It's me rippin' this for self, where else ya lookin'?
I got more rhymes than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad undefeated
Young boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-pee
I was rockin' rhymes when "La-Di-Da-Di" was a demo
Admit you been on my tip for years and just can't seem to let go
Go, go call your mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quick
I bet the minute you get home you'll get your ass whipped
Crazy ill mad styles is what I give'em
Not a run-of-the-mill'em, I drill'em, I got ridiculous rhythm
None of my styles you can get with'em
Still um, will um, your crew come get some so I can kill'em

[Ill Will]

Well I roll by myself but don't let it fool ya
If I got beef my crew'll damn step to ya
We don't play no games, I'll come straight to your rest
Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest
[Well that was fresh]

[KRS-One]

A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad skills will
Don't let me have to kill you kid, god forbid still
Greed will lead your need to succeed
but your speed, your speech
Your outreach is a breach of what I teach
For lyrical styles you're a leech
If I was Spanish I'd say, ["You lie like a beech"]
Wow-wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow...
Wow, for a amateur you really looked hard
But you're really a bitch, when you get it together
call me, here's my card
Check the list: you lack breath control, mental behaviour
Lyrical talent, imagination and flavour
I got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be hurt
Thinkin' you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll smash your wanna-be ass in the deep dirt
Black, you'll come up dizzy sayin' "How da fuck he do dat?"
'cause you're yappin' like you can't be reached
If your name ain't Arrested Development, well save your speech
Time to ill, I got mad skills to fill
Not a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty Cakes
Gotta be the best Gee, don't try to test me
You'll get jacked son, even if your name is not Jesse
Let's be up front when I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the motherfuckin' teacher

Outro
~~~~~

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!
Gal! Will ya come slap dem up

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy!
Gal! Will ya come slap dem up, up, up, up, up...

(Do it, do it, do it...) x2

Yo...South Bronx, South South Bronx
South Bronx, South South...yo, Uptown
Brooklyn's in the house, lemme tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What about...Queens?

Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Stand clear Don man a-talk
You can't stand where I stand
you can't walk where I walk
Watch out We run New York
Police man come, we bust him out the park
I know this for a fact
you don't like how I act
You claim I'm sellin' crack
But you be doin' that I'd rather say see ya
Cause I would never be ya
Be a officer? You WICKED overseer
Ya hotshot, wanna get props and be a saviour
First show a little respect
change your behavior
Change your attitude, change your plan
There could never really
be justice on stolen land
Are you really for peace and equality
Or when my car is hooked up
you know you wanna follow me
Your laws are minimal
Cause you won't even think about
lookin' at the real criminal
This has got to cease
Cause we be getting HYPED to
the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Now here's a likkle truth
Open up your eye
While you're checking out the boom-bap
check the exercise
Take the word overseer like a sample
Repeat it very quickly in a crew for example
Overseer
Officer
Yeah officer from overseer
You need a little clarity
Check the similarity
The overseer rode around the plantation
The officer is off patroling all the nation
The overseer could stop
you what you're doing
The officer will pull you over
just when he's pursuing
The overseer had the right to get ill
And if you fought back
the overseer had the right to kill
The officer has the right to arrest
And if you fight back
they put a hole in your chest
They both ride horses
After 400 years I've got no choices
The police them have a little gun
So when I'm on the streets
I walk around with a bigger one
I hear it all day
Just so they can run the light
and be upon their way
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Check out the message in a rough stylee
The real criminals are the C-O-P
You check for undercover and the one PD
But just a mere Black man, them want check me
Them check out me car for it shine like the sun
But them jealous or them vexed
cause them can't afford one
Black people still slaves up til today
But the Black police officer nah see it that way
Him want a salary
Him want it
So he put on a badge and kill people for it
My grandfather had to deal with the cops
My great-grandfather dealt with the cops
My GREAT grandfather had to deal with
the cops And then my great, great, great, great
when it's gonna stop
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast

Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast
Woop-woop That's the sound of da police
Woop-woop That's the sound of the beast

Intro:

So in the clubs I get (mad)
On the mic I get (mad)
On the beats I get (mad)
Yo,

Chorus:

I got the
(Mad, mad crew up in the house)
I'm wit the
I be chillin' wit the
I'm rollin' wit the

Verse One:

See, this is what I'm sayin' and I know you don't see this
Wack, underpriveledged MCs think they can see Kris
They watchin' too much television and they rocka
This ain't the TV show "Taxi," and I ain't Lotka
I break an MC off proper, yo don't check me
Ask your Moms and Pops, yo they respect me
But here you stand, tryin' to get yours, but gettin' NOTHIN'
You probably can't spell "Boogie Down" or "Productions"
I play for jeeps, I play for keeps, I play for streets, believe me
Put down the microphone and consider a squeegie
You're rated PG
Again I win when I begin
I'm slammin' again, no win, try to comprehend
I don't bend
I ravage and damage
I'm wild like a savage, kickin' asses
Hot flashes, your style's with trash's
Stay out of my classes, PUNK
Stay out of my classes - yo

Chorus:


Verse Two:

Twinkle, twinkle to the little rap star
I got all type of MC tongue in a pickle jar
So here's a quick freestyle to my target:
My core audience, *fuck* the rest of the market!
'Cause I spark it, styles I loanshark it
Then break your legs if you try to chart it
I got heart, it
Doesn't take a lot to rock a record, get wit it
Some MCs can't rock for five minutes
Sorry, that's not the way to approach me
Use caution
I rip up lyrical crews and MCs often
You probably don't know this:
I give birth to MCs
And I also give abortions
I'll do a number to your body structure
You look like supper
And I'm that _hungry_ motherfucker!
You don't wanna be on the menu!
I'll end you, twist you up and bend you
Like Gestapo
Pick up the microphone and crush up MC like a taco
No, we're never sad because we nah deal with sorrow
That's why dem challenge me, jah man you know dem challenge trouble
Me are number one of me there is no double!
And you don't want no trouble
'Cause Blastmaster KRS is flashin' lyrics on the double

Chorus

Verse Three:

Check
Me comin' on quick, me cominadance, now me a sing
KRS-One in a party, man me do me own ting
Nuff MC test, but you don't hear vowel one
All you hear is when the BDP crew slap them up
We have the champion belt and lyrical cup
Any DJ they want my title filled, no way now man step up
But when you lose, now understand you get fucked up
This ain't no game upon the mic
Me bring the noise to you like Chuck

Chorus:

Kid Capri got the
Gang Starr got the
Ill Will got the
Flavor Unit got the

Chorus:
You ain't that tough ya
Choose the right friends
You ain't that tough now
Don't make your life end

You walk around the town like you a big man
But you never know now that there's always a bigger man
You sling the M-16 and flash the M-1
But you don't know what you're doing never learned to handle one
But true! All you friend thinking you a gangster
While your mother tried to warn you from certain danger
So when you in your room you playing with your Mac-10
Fully loaded automatic, just you and a friend
You posing aw dey mirror like you a gangster clown
But the Mac-10 go off and you friend go down

Uh oh! What you gonna do now?
Uh oh! They gonna blame you somehow
Uh oh! Tell me what you gonna say
Uh oh! Look, they cutting you away

Your father telling you "Now son just go to school
Don't go acting like a fool and don't go acting too cool"
You get to the school and meet up with the right bunch
Just a group of kids with no names taking people lunch
You join the click because you wanna meet some girls
And you want a little prestige in you little school world
One day you're walking with your crew along the road
And a member of your crew pull out a gun and unload
He shoot a parked car and all you run far
You and your friends laughing like you a superstar
And you get home and you thinking it was fresh
And a cop meet you there with a warrant for your arrest
Them ask, "Who shot the gut why you walking down the street
Didn't you see the little boy there in the back seat sleep?
Now the boy dead we want to know from you
Who shot the car up, are we gonna take you?"

Uh oh! Now what you gonna do now?
Uh oh! Boy, them gonna blame you
Uh oh! Now tell me what you gonna say
Uh oh! Look, they cutting you away

Chorus

White kids! You living in the whitest part of town
You are a white kid but you know you hang around
So you and your friends thinking that you are all of that
When you see a youth walk by and yes the youth is black
One kid say "Hey, what you doing on the block
We don't want no niggers here unless he is a cop"
So the kid pull out a big baseball bat
And them him slap with the bat becasue the kid is black
Now then the kid fell down but still alive
So he reach in his pants and pull out a four-five
Pop! One friend drop and everyone run
Out of all the white kids now you the only one
You start cry, cause now you gonna die
And it's all because what your friends did to this guy

Uh oh! What you gonna do now?
Uh oh! He gonna blame you somehow
Uh oh! What you think you gonna say?
Uh oh! Now them cutting you away

Check!

Repeat Chorus 2x

{Kid Capri}
Aiyyo Kris, yo yo yo!
That was fresh, come with that next shit

Uhh! Fat fat fat fat beats! ..
How refreshing is it really?
How refreshing is it really?!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Whoo! ..
Big shout out to Philly in the house
G. Simone, you know you're not alone
KRS-One on the micraphone
Now we gonna come down ruffneck like this now seen?
Mad Lion hold tight

Chorus:

Brown skin woman, you a queen, not a HOE
Any man that drop the lyric what we give them the BO
Brown skin woman you a queen and not a HOE
Any man that drop the lyric what we give them the BO

Verse One:

We don't come with disrespect, we come with intellect
If you come with disrespect you get a rope around your neck
Some people don't expect me, to be so violent
But me NAH violent, just myself I protect
Too many time I see, young gwal pickadee
Pay five ten twenty thirty dollar to see
some rapper some singer some .. celebrity
Talk bout they wan fi sex up and fill up you body
But them NAH talk about peelin off some money
for the pumpin onna bed, when you haf the baby
Whattaya think can happen next? After you're done havin sex?
Too much of ignorance, not enough intellence
Mahn me NOT against sex, but too many DJ
talk sex but them not talk about the next day
Cause the next day them gone, and you sit alone
Got em soup up your mic, pon de micraphone

Chorus (w/ minor variations)

Verse Two:

Brown skin gwal them can't diss yo
Cause you run the show-ow-ow!
Them call you all type of bimbo
But you know you're not a hoe-oe-oe!
Bwoy pickade, check out your history
Brown man is a God in any ci-ty
White, man knew dat, and dat was a shock
So dem whip up your bod', and dem whippin not stop
But dem NAH can't stop us wit de whip and de chain
So dem take away your history, erase your name
STILL, with no name, with no fight, with no fuss
We just, take on the name, that MASSA give us
That name is NI-GGA, the correct is NE-GRO
It's spa-nish for BLACK, white mahn call us DAT
There is also NE-GROID, also NE-GRO
Now, all nigga pon the corner playin cee-lo
Man you're not a ne-gro, cause you're skin is not black
Take a look at yourself, you're brown and that's a fact
You not jump from no tree, you not live in no cave
That's some GARBAGE dem print, dem want you to behave!
You a African man, some say Asian
You must respect your love, all brown skin 'oman!
If you diss your 'oman, you not come wit no plan
So shut up your mowf, til you must understand!

Chorus (w/ minor variations)

Outro:

I know you want me to call you a nigga.. NO!
I know you want me to call you a hoe.. NO!
I know you want me to call you a bitch.. NO!
This is how it go!

{Kid Capri}
Yes Kris, you're large!
Another fat production by the KIIIIID Capri
Big shouts to the engineer Naughty
Big shouts to Luca, and we OUTTTTTTTTA here!

Peeeeeeeeeeace!

Intro
Boom Bap Original Rap
Boom Bap Original Rap

See how it sounds(bo!) a little unrational(bo!)*4

Verse 1
Now bad boy squad and bad boy crew
everything I do, I do jus for you
another silly sucker wants the champion belt
but like a microwave these days I make em melt
Return Of The Boom Bap means jus that
it means return of the real hard beats and real rap
the ladies in the place like it jus like that
Im a around the way gay with a baseball cap
you know my style, you know my name
I'm chillin at the top, but I'm still the same
I never crossed over, never went pop
you know Krs will give you real hip hop so..

Chorus
See how it sounds(bo!) a little unrational(bo!)*4

Verse 2
People always callin me a top celebrity
cuz when I'm on the mic
I like to speak freely
You hear me chattin lyric but Im not an MC
A one poetic member of the crew B.D.P.
I looked around the nation but I simply couldn't find
another entertainer wit a rhyme like mine
I pick up the mic and I tear up the phone
At this point in the party I should be left alone
but uh-oh uh-oh Ive come to show
a brand new flow
Is the flow wack? NO!
listen to the pro
come to the show in a b-boy stance..bogle in the dance
bogle and a bogle and a bogle in the party
Here's a likkle stylee, come an wake up everybody
Boom Bap original rap
Boom Bap, Boom Bap original rap
Refreshin when you hear it hard rap is all that so...

Chorus

Verse 3
Bogle in the dance, bogle in the dance
bogle in a, bogle in a, bogle in the party
Bogle in the dance, bogle in the dance
bogle in a, bogle in a, bogle in the party
On and on to the PM Dawn
I buck two shots and you squad is gone
you add a little street in your R-a-p
but never do you wanna challenge B.D.P.
cuz smashin up a crew, one-two is the least
when a sucka wants ta battle that just gets me geesed
I never backed down from to an MC feud
never on stage KRS got booed
stayed hardcore never changed my attitude
I got the hip hop juice for the hip hop food
I eat when I drink, an I drink when I eat
when I speak, what I speak
what I speak is not weak
now Boogie-down, boogie down, boogie down produc
wit the buck buck buck buck buck buck BUCK!
Throw ya hands high in the sky
wave em around, cuz I get down
down to the nitty, to the nitty, to the gritty
peace to all the hardcore kids in the city so....

Chorus

Outro:
Fresh for 1993 you S U C K A S! ! ! ! ! !

Bo! Boom bye bye hip hop will never die
Despite the fact that I'm fly I'm never dry
You could beat me cheat me when you meet me try to defeat me
But nevertheless you'll have stress cause I don't rest
You wanna know what my problem is if you're curious??
I take this hip hop shit too serious!!
I forget that other rappers ain't true to this
So when they grab the mic I get hyped like LET'S DO THIS!!
All my rhymes are fat, while rappers are skimpy, wimpy
So I simply chew they crew like a Blimpie
Skip me when you dissin, skip me when you on a ego mission..
I blow up, like nitroglycerin!
You better tune in to Teddy Ted
"Yo stop frontin', and use your head"

[KRS-One]
Well if you ain't called it hip-hop, there's a door, I ain't stoppin
I got more flavors than Baskin Robbins!
I flash the funky fresh flavors force-fully
Freak the phonies and flip philosophy constantly (true!)
That reminds me, rappers rock drip-drop
Not hip-hop, they wanna SING and all dem ting
Thank God KRS is still rappin; all that "ooh I love you baby"
and "blink blink blink" - this ain't happenin

[Kid Capri]
Yo this is curtains for these rappers that be frontin on the next man
Lookin down at brothers just because they gettin checks and
haven't got a skill but they're LARGE on the hum-bum
You wanna step to Kid Capri, COME COME COME!!
I break em up, just for actin like a superstar
Around the way, we got a neighborhood trooper car
We ride by, and spray your crew, and your honies too
And rip you open and drink your blood like a Mountain Dew

[KRS-One]
I descend to lend a friend a helping hand
to stop a trend, again and again and again, I just can't say when
I beg to confess my sins to other men
Reverands guard lips, within there I'll begin
I'll always win, over-sakin
The party is ripped, without a hit or with a hit I'm rippin shit
You must admit, I'll never quit the lyrics I flip
I'm tough like licorice, battlin Kid Capri? It's ridiculous
We come to the party inconspicuous

After seven years of rockin'
How do you rate me?
Poorly or greatly?
Everybody seems to be goin' for their's lately
Yo mad heads be needin' money
So listen very close as I conduct this little study
See it's, funny to me, you can watch TV
And give up your life trying to be all you can be
In the Army
Not knowin' your history
You either fight and die or come back home in misery
Yo get with me, I deal with reality
Loosen your mind to the truth, and don't get mad at me
No politican can give you peace
If you trust Jesus, why do you vote for a beast?
Emancipation is long over due
So overcome procrastination
Because freedom is within you
For some reason we think we're free
So we'll never be
Because we haven't recognized slavery
You're still a slave, look at how you behave
Debatin' on where and when and how and what Massa gave
You wanna know how we screwed up from the beginning?
We accepted our opressor's religion
So in the case of slavery it ain't hard
Because it's right in the eyes of THEIR God
Where is our God, the God that represents us?
The God that looks like me, the God that I can trust?
A God of peace and love, not mass hysteria
I don't want a God that blesses America
I could never really vote for the devil
Let me take you to a higher level...


Title, take the title from the Bible we can get there
Rip the title from off the front of the Bible, God don't live there
Too many inconsistencies, too many mysteries
Picture the Pope and the Vatican,
laughing and drinking and singing and Kissing me
I stand with God whether I'm paid or whether I'm cryin' broke
I like to ask these politicans would Jesus vote?
The way we view God is a freakin' shame
Church is to blame
We trust God, but bomb Hussein
We simply lovin' the scripture
Same scripture that whipped 'cha
Sooner it'll hit 'cha
Religion's gettin' richer
With that European version of Christ made into a picture
Our society's gettin' sicker, and sicker, and sicker...
Like liquor, we are God-Intoxicated
Not to the true God, but the one the government created
The same governments tellin' people to vote
I pray to God because the people have lost hope
You either vote for the mumps or the measels
Whether you vote for the lesser of two evils, you vote for evil
Politics and God are not equal
But the education if you don't guard, is really lethal
People have more respect for a holy book
Than they do for a cow on a meat hook
Belivers of Jesus be denouncing Satan on every level
But every Halloween they're dressin' like devils
I pray to you for the light you might give them
Mother make them know that you're livin' with them
You begin them and end them in silence
Frankly, if they knew you, they would understand violence
I pray to you for the Pope and the Vatican
Have mercy Mother, cause I know that you're mad at them
The White Jesus deceived us awhile ago
And Pope Julius the Second paid Michaelangelo
I know this happened in 1519 yet
This is the image we can't seem to forget
Vote for God, don't vote for the Devil
Let me take you to a higher level...