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anybody in here right now with tape decks turn em on
and put em on record, I'll give you a second I want to add authenticity to your tape so when it's sold out in the street you all can know this was a real party These are poems circulating throughout the nation everybody's bad and everybody's tough but how many people are intelligent enough to open up their eyes and see through the lies discipline themselves, yourself to stay alive? not many That's why the universe sent me today on this stage with this to to say the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer and in the final hour many heads will lose power what does the rich versus the poor really mean? psychologically it means you got to pick your team when someone says the rich gets richer visualize wealth and put yourselves in the picture the rich get richer, cause they work towards rich the poor get poorer, cause their minds can't switch from the ghetto let go, it's not a novelty you could love your neighborhood without loving poverty follow me, every mother, father, son, daughter there's no reason to fear the New World Order we must order the whole new world to pay us the New World Order and the old state chaos the Big Brother watching over you, is a lie you see Hip-Hop could build it's own secret society but first you and I got to unify stop the negativity and control our creativity the rich is getting richer, so why we ain't richer? could it be we still thinking like niggas? educate yourselves, make your world view bigger visualize wealth and put yourselves in the picture |
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Who am I? The MC, la-di da-di
I don't wear Versace, I wear DJ's out quickly at the party Who am I? If you're like me hip hop is in your body Who am I? THE MC! When the jam is slow and you need a proceeder Who am I? THE MC! When you need a lyrical leader wit oratorical triple features Who am I? THE MC! When you need to rock your 3000-seat arena, best believe, uh Who am I? THE MC! When you need to get the word on the street wit demeanor Who am I? THE MC! I beg thee, let me splurt rhymes, I have plenty Who am I? THE MC! Lord have mercy I hit sudden like Hersey always New like Jersey, stay thirsty Who am I? THE MC! Showin my authority, superiority an artistic minority, now you startin me Cuz party philosophy can only be carried out by Who am I? THE MC! No doubt, predicting far ahead what will set the party off immensely with plenty of who? THE MC! Trained at Rooftop, Red Zone, Roxy and Bentley's Who am I? THE MC! Gently move crowds with harmonious rhythm Cuz the lyrics we give em they miss em Who am I? THE MC! again, THE MC! Her infinite power helps, oppressed people sent me to tell you if you truly study lyrical flows and stay on your toes you will be Who am I? THE MC! and as an MC you will study verbal magic but watch what you say cuz you'll attract it control your subconscious magnet from pullin in havoc Who am I? The MC! Non-stoppin MC, hip hoppin MC Verbal rockin, head knockin, quick droppin MC I laugh cuz I mastered the craft MC In sound clash I'm the first and last MC It's sort of like Jim Carrey throwin that Mask to me I black out and wake up to catastrophe 3 MC's dead from the sound blowin out massively, wow! Who am I? The MC! Untouchable, can't be caught off guard with fast tracks or slow tracks Ass cracks get waxed to the max, MC's pack raps for all tracks Indigenous cultures, Asians, Whites and Blacks never missed it the linguistic of Who am I? THE MC! Meta-lyrical poetic mystic MC Hearin the voice of an ancient spirit MC Premeditated worder Killin negative concepts out the mind of the observer MC You deserve a break from counterfeits, frauds and fakes claimin to be an MC for heaven sakes Well, this MC done raised the stakes under the stress from KRS contracts and mental gats are bound to break Who am I? THE MC! again the MC! Conduct yourselves properly MC |
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It's meant to be evidently
When I rock so eloquently Put the beat on and let me Kill another wack emcee Can't trust them never test me I practice and study But I'm not in it for the money But to me they look so funny You can't test the teacher The teacher won't reach intact Through the speaker you're weaker now sit your ass in the back My lyrical you hear it you fear it you can't get near it Cause the spirit eat Eric And Eric your rhymes is wack Like that, that, right back Check it out! Check it like this Just skills You know you gots to build just skills *A phone is dialed a man says hello and a woman starts speaking in Spanish* You know you gots to build just skills, uh come on get down Just skills You know we got to build just skills, come on get down Yeah, uh come on I got that rip track, flip that, underground rap When I kick back Most of what I'm hearin be weak So I speak through beats and the streets as I teach I impeach, through speech, each lyric leech I reach Have a seat in the lecture Nothin can protect you Hard is the texture Of the mic wreckin rock in your sector Better than ever remember I am no beginner I like to shout out Eric Skinner Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down Yo, we livin in a world of private jets and limousine The fruit we eatin as we prepare tangerine to nectarine See everybody livin in the same routine We need the telephone, and yes, we need the fax machine You listen to the sound, well I think you know it's me Now, let me educate you with my concious poetry Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap Me love, me love, me love, me love, me love it when it's bad See if you wack rap you ought be steppin out the back See emcees on the microphone forgettin that they black See hear them kick the lyrics that are holdin people back But when you hear the teacher, KRS will find the track You bound to see the light, and you don't want return back So listen very closely to the secret scientist I'm sending this one out to all my inner city kids Now you supposed to be apostle what you have inside your head Can make you more reliable, it can make you feel dead Now listen very closely to the way I say this rhyme It's the thing called the brain, and the thing called the mind But I'm outta time Chorus (scratching on the word "can"): Can I tell them that I really never had a gun? No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done! Can I tell them that I really never had a gun Never had a gun, never had a gun? Can I tell them that I really never had a gun? No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done! Can I tell them that I really never had a gun Never had a gun, never had a gun? On the block you just yap a whole lot About the clothes that you got Yo, or the gold that you got Everybody sees all the friends in your Benz, yo, it's fat But they ain't gettin money like that Word to my brother Kenny, jealous one envy The rich are few, while the poor, many But you got gold cuffs and cars and stuff You eatin well, but still in the ghetto you dwell You know it's hot, so you make it known about your glock To any perpetrator tryin to blow up your spot You grab the microphone and talk a good ramble You the hardcore outlaw, criminal, vandal Burnin emcees like a candle, but you frontin You ain't got nothin, with your life you gamble One day you gamble up snake eyes Talkin all that junk about you don't take dives, you take lives Nobody on the block tries, cause you claim you got powerful ties So at the red light you arrive And to your surprise you get heffed up with just two steak knives You're terrified, they take your Benz, and what makes things worse You ain't got gun the first Chorus |
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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!! [Angie Martinez] 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, AD-IDAS 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 [Redman] 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! [KRS-One] 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 wrecking and raping is still theoretical Redman, you know you must understand (Whatup?) Redman, you know you gots to understand (Hah! Whatup love?) Angie, rockin with the one BDP (Ha, haha) Representin right now at Hit Factory [Redman] 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 ra-dioooo! Hahh, huh, the oooh-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 luna-tic 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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I'ma make you dance And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 3X) Don't stop KRS-One Puff Daddy Bad Boy remix Hit me baby Verse One: Puff Daddy, KRS-One Hear the sound of my money machine See the 600 Benz see the chrome rims gleam See the teacher KRS and the Puff Daddy See the young black and famous Rich like Matty With the power and the knowledge at our fingertips With a style make the ladies wanna lick they lips, shake they hips Shake they rumps, bass thump Believin they could fly by the way you jump, player, uhh Hip-Hop mayor, fat rhyme sayer From the Boogie Down to the Himilayas I'm Comentating (say what?) illustrating (yeah) Descriptions given, adjective expert (I hear you) Let's work, til your neck hurt (oooh) Like Bedwork I Rock Steady, you ain't really ready for the teacher, just when you thought you had me licked I come equipped with another hit, oh shit! (I hear you, I hear you, I hear you, I hear you) Chorus: And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Verse Two: Puff Daddy Politic with the teacher (c'mon) as the hits reach ya Puff Daddy and KRS-One, double feature (that's right) Uptown diplomats, watch chips get stacked So-and-so, this and that (uhh) Just 'Show me the money!' Ain't nuttin funny (uh-huh) Have you stuck on stupid broke feelin crummy (ahah) Ain't no time for Girl 6 Cause I got a ten, holdin my stack of big Benz Correographer causin your funky dope maneuver (say what?) Bad Boy represent, keep it sewer Killin You Softly wit my song Call from the heist, I know y'all better think twice (what?) about the still number one (uh-huh) South South Bronx (say what?) At the Latin Quarter, dancin witcha daughter (ooh!) You can't handle me, I keep it tight With my Bad Boy family, that's right Chorus: And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Verse Three: KRS-One Uhh, uhh, South Bronx You sitin and you wonderin, how we keep it comin in KRS and Puff again to push it, and shove it in (that's right) The neighborhood be buggin when we we comin in, rulin (With more Wildcats than Rick Pitino, I mean yo) Just Coolin', like Levert, I do work They love me, thick with G. Simone, Puffy Young black and educated, that's how we made it (oh yeah) Study and bring the money in, you can't fade it This scholar, gets the dollars While these other scholars just holler (remix) With no dinero, your zero (remix) You think I care what you whisper You got the wrong picture (remix) I'm chillin with G. Simone eatin dinner (haha) The 1997 winner, of your respect High tech, you get the album or cassette (that's right) And don't forget, while you listenin, skills I flaunt it That Boogie Down Bronx shit, we on it [Puffy] Scott LaRock rest in peace, Biggie Smalls rest in peace Step into a world We love y'all, always and forever, and we won't stop Where there's no one left Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop Where the very best BDP, Bad Boy No MC can test Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test (repeat last refrain to fade) Rock on, Bad Boy, remix, for eternity baby, BDP rock on rock on... |
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The beat was sposed to drop right there
The beat was sposed to drop right there The beat was sposed to drop right there Yeah yeah yeah... uhh I send this one out, to my right hand man or mens, or womens, the whole crew The real fam Chorus: KRS-One We can count the dough or kick a flow or chill out watchin videos or actin really silly yo but really doe all that can end... Whether at the bar with superstars or cruisin in the trooper car I really don't care who you are All I really need is a friend Verse One: KRS-One If we can't have trust then you can't hang with us We respond to those who show respect with respect We respond we connect on the same deck same intellect, my man, never shifty, thinks quickly If you can't understand, we boys we boys We could stand on the corner with a hat sellin toys It ain't about your Benz I hope it ain't about mine my man, I be dissin in my freestyle rhyme Gettin G's around the world, I can trust you with my girl my man, we chillin at the jam, what's the plan? I'm not a yes man and none of my friends are yes men or women, I'm drivin, I see my peeps yo get in Where you fit in? True friends are quick to sit in the beginning of all trouble, and when your bankroll doubles Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble Still I got my own space like Hubble Chorus Verse Two: KRS-One Cause don't nobody care about us, all they do is doubt us Until we blow the spot then they all wanna crowd us and wanna shout us, but you my man from way back I just gots to say that, actin large I don't play that But I can't say that, where I play at isn't fast-paced A friend can acquire the taste to become two-faced And that's a disgrace there ain't nothing you can say to us When the kid you grew up with betrays your trust When we used to ride the bus we had trust Now we cash checks and drive Lex, and can't show respect to one of us Yo the heads I hang with ain't tryin to just get what they can get, sit quickly backstabbin the click I roll thick, but only some are friends really down to the end, my right hand men and women Mutual support, from the beginning Been in, exactly what I've been in Chorus Verse Three: KRS-One Back to back we attack corporate America Gettin fees that amount to G's in every area You my man I ain't gotta drag you along You pull your own weight, yeah you definitely got it goin on I don't see nothin wrong wit a little bumpin car system thumpin, between the crew we always got sump'un But if we had nuttin no frontin whatever We'd still be crew you and me, me for you together Word, fake people ain't worth a turd They only want to be your friend because of what they overheard I send this record to the well respected Friends that I've collected, I hope I am what you expected Yeah, so check it, so check it Chorus |
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So you wanna be the million dollar man kid what?s your plan Make a deal with the devil settle for a hundred grand Not enough I call your bluff hit you with the stuff Deal with this and think you?re tough gimme a call when things get rough You get no Vette and if I could stay leaded I?m leavin rappers one-legged from fakin like the prosthetic you?re artificial by cripple, rap is like your pistol Grim Reaper, I got the whistle, death I pull no tissue Hit you, like the Mac-11, MC?s subtract by seven Callin callin for the reverand, lookin at hell like heaven I?m on the map, makin it like the crazy on the track Oh what the hell I get my mail while I raid you til it crack Chorus: KRS and Thor-El H, I, P, H, O, P, we are H, I, P, H, O, P, we are Verse Two: KRS-One C?mon, uhh Dead two in the head before some A&R tell me I must give up the streets you lift the company can sell me What?s the sense in being large if you can?t take a risk? Thinkin a risk upon a disc means you?re written off the list I?m not sayin you can?t have your fame and glory just don?t bore me when I come to see you live, and I paid twenty-five That?s, crazy loot Kris is saying I don?t play those games Killing Rhyme Sessions is the meaning of my name But don?t call my name in vain, cause I will appear And your livest MC will get slain right here See I do the homework, and I do the extra credit You could sell a million records, and still can?t set it Cause the Lex or Beem is probably just the matches and a Jeep so I?m sure your rap career now if they come before your people Ohh Lord!! You can?t be thinkin about Billboard With the mic cord, and several thousand people just bored Being dope live is like being insured for life You always get called back twice, you are Chorus 2X Verse Three: Thor-El, KRS-One I burn like hy-dra-cho-loric and my city got itty He?s terrible, Thor-El?s incredible and terrific Is it, that you?re under the influence of local obvious Rappers that die, but why, explain the obvious No stoppin this lyrics from the esophagus rockin strictly the hip-hop populace |
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Right now as we rockin they shootin outside
Now we have got to chill We have got to chill We can't have no gunfire because hip hop can't build Let's leave all the shootin and the violence outside I know there's some people in here armed to the teeth But understand... It is the conciousness behind the gun that determines if the gun is positive or negative So let's not blame it on no pistols no guns no gats Let's blame it on the conciousness of the mind holding the gat |
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(static) Yo they comin'. It's crazy but I know it they comin'. Maybe not lately I feel it coming. I knew it they comin'. (static) This just in. President (static) I guarentee (static) Jim...Jimmy Jimmy wake up. Jimmy! (static) Only the Lord can save (static) 5.99 no obligation (static) Let me start to rock this mic (static) Now the polar bear hybernates (static) And and what was going through your mind right now. KRS-1: Look aat 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 theses M-I-Cs I'm Poison like BBD the plot thickens while I be hitten 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, 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-1, yeah so... Hook: Redman: Say blowe KRS-1: If you really want true skill Redman: Say blowe KRS-1: If you want the hip hop to build Redman:Say blowe KRS-1: We rock it all year round Redman: You better cool the F out before we go up in your mouth KRS-1: It's just beguuuun, to bubble KRS-Onnnne spells trouble On the mic soooon 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' for 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-1 makes the heads nod Hook Redman: KRS-1 KRS-!: Yes my son Redman: Tweet tweet (x2) KRS-1: You know they can't compete, ain't that right Redman: No doubt. You better cool the F out before we go up in your mouth KRS-1: 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 can read a good 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 udder, 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 other 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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Hah! They not ready uhh uhh Set it off South Bronx Set it off uhh check it The real hip hop is over here The real hip hop is over there The real hip hop is over here The real hip hop is over there It's a demo it's a demo it's a demo it's a demo Steppin out the limo KRS One gettin in you From the get go kiddo throw em out the window flip em like a nickel Peep the hottest single He'll sink them like the S.S. Minnow That same kid that rocks the Benz rocks the Pinto Watch my signal, I rock the rap game like Nintendo Hey diddle, diddle, get played now like a fiddle I watch you wiggle, in front of the audience that was fickle Now you can't make a nickle, the sour pickle you are KRS-One, ninety-seven superstar I got one thing to say and let me make this clear Everywhere, now throw your hands in the air The real hip-hop, is over here The real hip-hop, is over there The real hip-hop, is over here The real hip-hop, throw your hands in the air! [Mic Vandalz] Yo, been rockin rooftops, knahmsayin? Internat', yaknahmsayin? KRS, vandalizin, yaknahmsayin? With the Mic Vandalz Boogie Down, Uptown, yaknahmsayin? It's dope, check it out [KRS-One] When I ain't doin a show, or bringin all the money in or at the studio, or home studyin I'm checkin out Funkmaster Flex on cassette as he wrecks turntable sets with many subjects Huff now that's the Blastmaster connects, the larynx to a high-tech mic set, you get what you get Tech and Sway, index of singles is complex On Technics sets, he wrecks, collects a fee next While you rejects practice, suffix and prefix Hip-Hop I reads it, and mark your album incompleted I seen it, saw it, back in eighty-five Platinum rappers yo that can't rock live Their mental facilities, lack the ability for lyric agility battle? You're killin me The real hip-hop, is over here The real hip-hop, is over there The real hip-hop, is over here The real hip-hop, throw your hands in the air! The real hip-hop, is over there The real hip-hop, is it over here? The real hip-hop, yo it's over there The real hip.. now throw your hands in the air! [Mic Vandalz] Throw your hands in the air (get loose now) Throw your hands in the air (get loose now) Throw your hands in the air (get loose now) Aiyyo I'm breakin, in this rap thing, I've been waitin Ready for the world, rude like awakening Homo sapien, ? ? rock every stadium Scholars and players, here to Las Vegas Embrace the papers, land of money makers Brothers hate us cause the brothers ain't us Yo yo, from coast to coast I'ma overdose you and BDP you and Kris-Kross your mind, wouldn't wanna be you A Uptown thing, world premier Throw your hands in the air baby it's on How many MC's wanna get they rep torn? From Joe to Cage and mics in my juvenile days, I abuse The mic get lifted, the crowd gets amused I got next.. you lose |
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Come to da party come to the dance Everyone is fightin So they fired up up and away Come to da party come to the dance To pull out the vinyl so they fired up up and away [KRS One] Yeah yeah Hardcore lyric comin at ya they attackin ya Rappers bite like Dracula the soul of hip hop I'm puttin back in ya with the South Bronx vernacular Bound to put the crack in your armor, I am much sharper than a lot of other mic rockers, slightly eccentric but everything's authentic, when I said, "I'm hip-hop," I meant it Emcees wanna debate the issue, but false though If they studied they would see that they are hip-hop also Hip-Hop you can't do it, you gots to be it You can't confine it, you have to free it, so you can see it as your expression, and learn the lesson, on life in ghetto sections and what you feel is the forward direction for black people, not these Star Wars save that for R2-D2 I got five fingers like Bruce Lee do And with the five fingers I grab microphones and bring the stinger to DJ's, rappers, singers and beer drinkers This MC's a thinker, unlike others but I won't diss yaz You're still my brothers and sisters, Kris is ONE aspect of hip-hop rap Negative rap, positive rap, forget that black it's a trap to set us back, concentrate on various rap talents Presently the rap radio format is unbalanced You either got the player, or the concious rhyme sayer all day, on your radio, not with a different flavor Someone has to DIE before you hear a concious record People don't like gangsta rap, but concious rap, they don't respect it The truth is people are afraid of black youth Our expressions, our lessons and gold teeth, so.. [Joe] Come to da party, come to the dance Everyone is shoutin So they fired up, up and away Come to da party, come to the dance Everyone is singin so they fired up, up and away |
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[KRS-One]
Open a the herb gate selling pure ganja Babylon come but they undercover They never really want me stop sell ganja (They just wanna take a cut of what you make so far!) But I'm not having it, I load the SLR Pack the ganja boom! They break down the door Pop-pop! T'ree shots, exchanged at close range Out of three Babylon, me hit one in the brain Pop-pop! Two shots hit the window pane I exchanged four shots, I drop and feel pain but I'm not hit, into the bathroom I crawl I look out the window, it's a one story fall I'm falling, hit the ground and start crawling Soon I'm walking 'round, blending in with the crowd Another day, I got away, I gotta fix this problem someday But the very next day [Chorus: x2] Can't stop, won't stop selling mad izm All competition I gots to get wit 'em Me nah go jail and me nah go prison (Take it to his face kid, dis him!) [KRS-One] I'm in another herb gate like a superstar Eleven A.M., things are safe so far I used to worry 'bout the competition on the block But now the competition on the block is the cops And even block watch doesn't know where we lay Well ("Open up! It's the D.E.A.!") Aww man, just when I went for more lead The door opens up, I got a glock to my forehead ("Get down! Get on the floor!") I felt the stick, I thought I was dead But I woke up instead in a cell laying on my bed I lay back down, then I heard the crack sound Two D.T.'s came in and laid they glocks down One was whistling a love song, as he put some gloves on I thought to myself, damn something's wrong Boom bap! Boom bap against my head I fell back on the bed, down to his feet The pain was insane but the hit was sweet Cause these dumb-ass cops punched me right by the heat The glock, two shots, three shots they screaming Then someone said ("Hey wake up kid, you're dreaming!") I said, "Yo dreaming?! That nightmare was hell" But as I look around, I was still in my cell Damn, I got myself caught up in a jam The D.T. that woke me up was like, WHAT?! I wiped the saliva, off my mouth The D.T. said.. ("Let's make a deal") No doubt! No question, now we started up the session No need for guessing, yes they want my supplier I said, what makes you think there's anyone higher? He said.. ("Don't be a God damned liar!") You killed three D.T.'s yesterday, you heard me But still the cops you knocked off yea was dirty Now the whole investigation is federal We want you to point out, the rest of the cops that are criminal He continued to say, you can't think it through This whole drug game is BIGGER than you! Follow our plan man and you'll be free Let me explain one thing so you can see, we [Chorus] [KRS-One] Now I'm back in the herb gate, all wired up Constantly thinking about being tied up Snap out of it, I'm thinking, "Damn we like elves! The federal and local cops got wars with themselves; and I'm in the middle, and can't solve the riddle. My nose is runny" ("Let me get a 20!") A 20 of the green or a 20 of the brown? ("Gimme the whole pound, clown, or duck down!") God damn, God damn, here we go again But this time I'm set up by my federal friend Suddenly I hear ("Yo, move from the door!") Followed by the shot sounded like a four-four After the violence, then there was silence Then I heard.. ("Hey yo it's us, open up the door!") But rule number one in this game is self-reliance So I picked up the mini-mac in case they wanted more The door opened up, the feds said what up? They was sticking you up, so they had to get bucked Suddenly a sense of trust came over me I thought to myself, "Well soon I'll be free!" But as I turned around, I heard the gun go click I said wait, but it was too late ------------- Lyrics Powered by LyricFind Written By K R S ONE/KRSONE/MUGGERUD LARRY E/MUGGS/PARKER LAWRENCE KRSONE Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group |
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| 16. |
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But am I over ya head?
Am I over ya head? But am I over ya head? Yo am I over ya head? But am I over ya head? Am I over ya head? Well am I over ya head? Yo am I over ya head? Huh? What? Where? Who? What? Whattyathinkinabout when who says what when how You can't maybe follow my style You be the child I be the teacher Smile who said when what mouth not shut what? Whenever however whenever whatever the cut How you maybe could you ever believe, that you could so quickly achieve these crafts, please laugh at his stupid ass upon your knees in glass You lust, for everything but trust So we bust back, with conciously charged art with a mic instead of a brush But am I over ya head? Am I over ya head? But am I over ya head? Yo am I over ya head? Am I over ya head? Yo am I over your head? Yo am I over ya head? Listen.. Yes, us must trust us, who? Us must trust not fuss with us, us must trust us discuss trusting us Us must trust us, who? Us must trust not fuss with us, us must trust us discuss thus trusting us Trusting us, us must trust discuss Discuss not trusting us must not fuss Us with us means us discussing trusting us Us must trust us, who? Us must trust not fuss with us, us must dicuss trusting us But am I over ya head? Yo am I over your head? But am I over ya head |
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| 17. |
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Tell me right now tell me what?s wrong
Please tell me something before I?m gone It seems like we have come to the end Should I be listening to all my friends Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? I?M HEARING THINGS LIKE YOU?LL BE SLEEPING CREEPING BEHIND MY BACK YOU MIGHT BE LAUGHIN MIGHT BE JOKIN BUT I?M THINKIN IT?S WACK IF WE ARE OVER LET?S BE OVER AND LET?S LEAVE IT AT THAT SEE I CAN?T TRUST YOU ANYMORE BECAUSE YOUR LOVE IS AN ACT Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? Just who do you, think I really am? One of your mindless and stupid friends? Why can?t you simply tell me the truth? So I can hold you, or cut you loose? I?M NOT THE TYPE TO LISTEN TO WHAT EVERYBODY WILL SAY BUT MORE AND MORE IT?S SEEMIN THAT I CAN?T TRUST YOU ANYWAY YOU MAKE ME THINK THAT I MUST SLEEP WITH SOMETHIN OVER MY HEAD FOR FEAR I WAKE UP IN A POOL OF BLOOD AND PROBABLY DEAD HOW ARE WE LIVIN? HOW ARE WE LIVIN? IT SEEMS YOU ARE NOT GIVIN WHAT YOU GAVE IN THE BEGINNING HOW ARE WE LIVIN? HOW ARE WE LIVIN? IT SEEMS YOU ARE NOT GIVIN WHAT YOU GAVE IN THE BEGINNING Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? Is it true what they say? I?M HEARING THINGS LIKE YOU?LL BE SLEEPING CREEPING BEHIND MY BACK YOU MIGHT BE LAUGHING MIGHT BE JOKING BUT I?M THINKING IT?S WACK IF WE ARE OVER LET?S BE OVER AND LET?S LEAVE IT AT THAT SEE I CAN?T TRUST YOU ANYMORE BECAUSE YOUR LOVE IS AN ACT I?M NOT THE TYPE TO LISTEN TO WHAT EVERYBODY WILL SAY BUT MORE AND MORE IT?S SEEMIN THAT I CAN?T TRUST YOU ANYWAY YOU MAKE ME THINK THAT I MUST SLEEP WITH SOMETHIN OVER MY HEAD FOR FEAR I WAKE UP IN A POOL OF BLOOD AND PROBABLY DEAD Probably dead! Probably dead. Probably dead |
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| 18. |
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Yeah listen to the lyrics
We are the ones prophesized to return My main concern is for all of you to learn How to live yes through the lyrics I give and send my friend This age is coming to an end Not the world but the age is ending Ending listen to the astrological message I'm sending I'm sending tell em Truth is truth whether or not you like me We are living now in the age of Pisces When Pisces is over, at the year two thousand When the Sun of God, changes his house and enters the Age of Aquarius The Sun of God as man is hilarious (okay) When you think of Jesus, think of the Sun The flaming Sun, that's where they stole this concept from Stop believing and read your bible logically The new testament is really old astrology Jesus is the son of God no lie But they might be talking about the Sun up in the sky The Sun, that hangs on the cross of the zodiac The zodiac with twelve signs to be exact Each sign is a house, and you should keep in mind Each house equals, a period of time The time, two thousand years and that's a fact It's called an age or a house in the zodiac The twelve disciples, are twelve months of reason The four gospels signify the four seasons When Jesus fed the multitude with two fishes It signified the Age of Pisces, not fish or dishes If you read the bible astrologically it's clearer (no doubt) The next age will be the age of the water-bearer It's called the Age of Aquarius (word) When logic and truth will take care of us So in this age, of spiritual dignity You'll see a rise in femininity and creativity, meshed with masculinity You got to get with me, this is your true her-story (rrryyy!) Do you wanna go higher |
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| 19. |
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I'ma make you dance And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 3X) Don't stop KRS-One Puff Daddy Bad Boy remix Hit me baby Verse One: Puff Daddy, KRS-One Hear the sound of my money machine See the 600 Benz see the chrome rims gleam See the teacher KRS and the Puff Daddy See the young black and famous Rich like Matty With the power and the knowledge at our fingertips With a style make the ladies wanna lick they lips, shake they hips Shake they rumps, bass thump Believin they could fly by the way you jump, player, uhh Hip-Hop mayor, fat rhyme sayer From the Boogie Down to the Himilayas I'm Comentating (say what?) illustrating (yeah) Descriptions given, adjective expert (I hear you) Let's work, til your neck hurt (oooh) Like Bedwork I Rock Steady, you ain't really ready for the teacher, just when you thought you had me licked I come equipped with another hit, oh shit! (I hear you, I hear you, I hear you, I hear you) Chorus: And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Verse Two: Puff Daddy Politic with the teacher (c'mon) as the hits reach ya Puff Daddy and KRS-One, double feature (that's right) Uptown diplomats, watch chips get stacked So-and-so, this and that (uhh) Just 'Show me the money!' Ain't nuttin funny (uh-huh) Have you stuck on stupid broke feelin crummy (ahah) Ain't no time for Girl 6 Cause I got a ten, holdin my stack of big Benz Correographer causin your funky dope maneuver (say what?) Bad Boy represent, keep it sewer Killin You Softly wit my song Call from the heist, I know y'all better think twice (what?) about the still number one (uh-huh) South South Bronx (say what?) At the Latin Quarter, dancin witcha daughter (ooh!) You can't handle me, I keep it tight With my Bad Boy family, that's right Chorus: And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test Verse Three: KRS-One Uhh, uhh, South Bronx You sitin and you wonderin, how we keep it comin in KRS and Puff again to push it, and shove it in (that's right) The neighborhood be buggin when we we comin in, rulin (With more Wildcats than Rick Pitino, I mean yo) Just Coolin', like Levert, I do work They love me, thick with G. Simone, Puffy Young black and educated, that's how we made it (oh yeah) Study and bring the money in, you can't fade it This scholar, gets the dollars While these other scholars just holler (remix) With no dinero, your zero (remix) You think I care what you whisper You got the wrong picture (remix) I'm chillin with G. Simone eatin dinner (haha) The 1997 winner, of your respect High tech, you get the album or cassette (that's right) And don't forget, while you listenin, skills I flaunt it That Boogie Down Bronx shit, we on it [Puffy] Scott LaRock rest in peace, Biggie Smalls rest in peace Step into a world We love y'all, always and forever, and we won't stop Where there's no one left Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop Where the very best BDP, Bad Boy No MC can test Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop (repeat 4X) Step into a world, where there's no one left But the very best, no MC can test (repeat last refrain to fade) Rock on, Bad Boy, remix, for eternity baby, BDP rock on rock on... |
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