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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Bo Bo Bo Clack Clack Clack Clack Clack
Get your street knowledge every posse know that come again Bo Bo Bo Clack Clack Clack Clack Clack The only way to deal with racism if you're black Well, seven in the morning I woke up to jog Rushed out the door to inhale the smog As I ran, I began to wonder Should I produce or should I tour this summer Well just that second I heard stay where you are Before I could stop I was hit by a cop car I laid on the pavement like I was hurt Then a redneck cop jumped out with a smirk He said, ah boy you better watch where you run as he poked my side with the barrel of his shotgun I said Officer man I ain't do nothin He said what's that word you n----s use, ya frontin? Well ya frontin, so why were you running down the street? At this time I had stood to my feet and said Wait a minute And that's when he did it, he hit me in the face with his gun I wasn't with it so On the ground was a bottle of Snapple, I broke the bottle in his fucking Adam's apple As he fell his partner called for backup well, I had the shotgun and began to act up with that (Chorus) Well I threw down the gun and began to run I got back in no time and loaded the nine First I took two clips and then I took two more I was out the window cause by now they were right at my door I took three shots and then I laid They rushed in shooting so I threw a quick grenade It went boom like a supernova Badges arms heads legs cops were all over I jumped out the fire escape down to the street and I started to run you know I couldn't feel my feet, I was weak, I said to myself Holy shit! My shirt had filled with blood I didn't know I got hit but there's no time to stop no time to explain man I'm in too deep with this everyday ghetto pain Black men are judged by their clothes Black women are looked at as hoes So I as one of these uppity n----s Can only rely on the sound of a trigga going (Chorus) Well I staggered down the street to an old bookstore Called the Tree of Life (Yo D it ain't there no more) But when it was boy I was lucky Cause in the basement is where they stuck me When I awoke at the 14th hour Three black women had gave me a quick shower I stayed a while and escaped in a truck Driven by two guys, Rakim and Chuck What the fuck I asked as I laid there How many guys do you drive a day there? Chuck said many, Rakim said plenty it's an everyday thing when you're willing to sing a song... (Chorus) Peace and love to DJ Scott LaRock he's in there still! |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
(KRS-One) + (somebody beatboxing)
Let me tell you bout a crew I know (ba BUM BUM) Called Boogie Down Productions and they steal the show (ba BUM BUM) With DJ Scott LaRock and KRS-One (ba-bum, ba-ba-bum, ba-bum-ba-bum-bababababababababa) With D-Nice you know the job is done and I know (boom-ba-bum) oh yes I know (ba-boom-ba-bum) I know because I'm KRS-One, yo check this out (beatbox continues in the background) (KRS-One) Breath control.. here's an example I appeal, to the +Criminal Minded+ You can't find it, boy you're still blinded Why don't you open your eyes and stop DISSIN Get a prescription to listen Sit in the class and ask real fast about a FRESH RAP You're gettin left back, set back, kept back Get back, I don't accept that material Your rhymes are artificially flavored like cereal I like clarity, so when you come here speak clear and concise and then I might give a little slack to.. nah, wait - I take that back If you're wack, I'll slap, FUCK THAT! Boogie Down Productions back, simply cause we never left the radical sounds of KRS What a mess, to roll up and then 'fess Wild guess huh, you thought you were the best? But - yup yup - as it always turns out You get burned out, your rhymes just run out I immediately come out, BOOMIN dope and don't provoke, you're walkin a very thin rope Not even rope, the word I'm lookin for is string When I sing, I sing to try and bring enlightenment, yet the suckers be bitin it Radio's fightin it, the fans be likin it Your face I'm wipin it, cause your mouth is dirty You're unworthy to THINK that you can serve me You heard me? These styles are universal You need rehearsal, wait, first I'll beef up the system, rhyth, rhymin, timin, climbin Then realizing As producer of this dope record huh I think it's time we break for a second Breath control.. (KRS-One) That's it, that's it, that's it Break is over, back to the track Resume attack, on the crews that are wack We don't lack, I mean, we don't like the played out styles when we're rockin the mic The radical rebel at level fifteen The amp only goes to ten, you know what I mean? As it seems, it seems that you're doomed Yes I'll boom and consume the WHOLE room Not a part, not a fraction or a sum but ALL, capital KRS-One B-D-B-D-B-D-B-D-P Takin MC's out constantly! Because you're no big deal, you're no big wheel You steal, come before me and kneel but I'm not a king, I'm not a queen, I'm not a ace I'm not a jack, I'm not a MC or a playboy and I just ain't wack I feel that you should get an understanding You might be jamming, but KRS-One is slamming Hypothetically, or in reality Takin you out, is a SMALL technicality Rhymes like these, or rhymes like THIS ONE comes in handy, while I diss some soft silly low budget sucker like yourself I got the style you need, in my house on the shelf labelled, sucker boy style I like to do it every once in a while.. |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
* was also featured in the movie "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka"
(KRS-One) Again we start, let me say my part About the only guy who has some heart It took some time for the heart to come but it's HERE, and everybody's in fear Crashin through the door of that WHORE Bringin a end to this gold chain WAR What you saw, KRS-One is now seeing Another fly human being Making, no excuses for the losers Chain-snatchers, pimps, drug abusers You don't like it but you gotta keep PUSHIN until somebody starts MUSHIN all these suckers, claimin to rule the environment (Nah man, I ain't buyin it) You seem to think that everybody can be taught that everyone else can be bought But, you took a short, cause one guy hasn't been paid He is the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * (KRS-One) He's a, calm kind of guy, courageous and loyal But don't let the temper boil Cause just like a pot when the whistle blows (That's right boy, anything goes!) The crime is commited and he's right on your tail There's no bail, not thinkin bout jail All the ends, are justified by the means when Jack's on the scene Track the movement, don't lose it cause if he come through the back, he ATTACKS CRACK, cocaine, cops, and more fiends who all get the same in the heat of this gold chain GAME Here is the aim -- destroy all the stereotypes, hypes, and crack pipes We don't like, criminals, and crime -- but we don't pay it any mind So here comes Kung-Fu, Joe, and Fly Guy Slade, Hammer, and Slammer I, am a, renegade teacher and scholar If you ain't up on it you GOTTA fall to the back of the line Hear this rhyme, cause I'ma say it one more time It's JACK'S theme song that KRS made It's called the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * (KRS-One) You know, the Jack of Spades is now down with the BDP Posse If you wanna see more, just watch me MAN, do what I do, throw your hands in the air And scream it out, ohh yeah "OHH YEAHHH!!" One more time! "OHH YEAHHH!!" (Flash the rhyme!) Cool, guy, loud and quiet If your head's in the way, he'll FLY IT Don't try it, cause Jack of Spades doesn't BUY IT He's a one man riot Cleanin the community, of all it's debris The C-R-I-M-E The road was long and scary and some didn't make it The average guy couldn't take it But JACK, is not, the average guy He took a piece of the pie and BIT IT Got with it, for his brother he DID IT So you gotta admit it This is a martyr, a soldier, a hero WHY? Because he started from zero In this battle he clearly understands their power They're payin people by the hour to sell, to lie, to try, to stand up and deny they are gettin everybody HIGH High on a cable, cash under the table Currency is how they're able to buy the cops and props and keep the law PAID But here comes the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * (KRS) Break it down! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * (KRS-One) Fresh.. for Jack of Spades, you SUCKERS Ha ha ha ha ha ha hah.. |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Intro
The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! x2 Verse 1 Here is a message to the Super-Hoes Just keep in mind when Jimmy grows It grows and grows and grows, so let it But keep in mind about the epidemic When Jimmy releases, boy it pleases But what do you do about all these diseases? Jimmy is Jimmy, no matter what So take care of Jimmy cos you know what's up Cos now in winter AIDS attacks So run out and get your Jimmy Hats It costs so little for a pack of three They're Jimmy Hats for the winter attack Good for a present, great for lovers Demonstrated by The Jungle Brothers Protect your Jimmy and keep it fresh They're Jimmy Hats by KRS Chorus So, remember you're never too old (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Remember you're never too bold (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Do me a favour, wear your hat So Jimmy...will have the opportunity to come back Verse 2 Well, Red Alert is down with BDP Teachin' you all about Jimbrowski I don't wanna hear that you're not with it Turn around and see your butt in a clinic Havin' doctors just poke at Jimmy Let me express what now what's in me Too many people take too many risks Too many people I see get dissed Jimmy Hats are now in style Cos you can't trust a big butt and a smile Some are dry and some lubricated Many companies make and made it So all you Super-Hoes, wear your hat Cos drippin' Jimmies is straight up wack Keep in mind about Jimbrowski Jimmy Hats by BDP The J, the I, the M The M, the Y, the J, the I... It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! Repeat chorus |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Voice: So, you're a philosopher?
KRS: Yes, I think very deeply. [repeated and scratched] [Verse One] Let's begin, what, where, why, or when will all be explained like instructions to a game See I'm not insane, in fact, I'm kind of rational when I be asking you, 'Who is more dramatical?' This one or that one, the white one or the black one pick the punk, and I'll jump up to attack one KRS-One is just the guy to lead a crew right up to your face and dis you Everyone saw me on the last album cover Holding a pistol something far from a lover Beside my brother, S-C-O-T-T I just laughed, cause no one can defeat me This is lecture number two, 'My Philosophy' Number one, was 'Poetry' you know it's me This is my philosophy, many artists got to learn I'm not flammable, I don't burn so please stop burnin, and learn to earn respect 'cause that's just what KR collects see, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk you walk down the street and get jumped You got to have style, and learn to be original and everybody's gonna wanna diss you like me, we stood up for the South Bronx and every sucka mc had a response You think we care? I know that they are on the tip my posse from the Bronx is thick and we're real live, we walk correctly a lot of suckas would like to forget me but they can't, cause like a champ I have got a record of knocking out the frauds in a second on the mic, I believe that you should get loose I haven't come to tell you I have juice I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level I'll be back, but for now just seckle! [Verse Two] I'll play the nine and you play the target you all know my name so I guess I'll just start it or should I say, 'Start this,' I am an artist of new concepts at their hardest cause, yo, I'm a teacher and Scott is a scholar It ain't about money cause we all make dollars That's why I walk with my head up when I hear wack rhymes I get fed up Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games a lot of suckas with colorful names I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack I'm not white or red or black I'm brown.. from the Boogie Down Productions, of course our music be thumpin' others say their bad, but they're buggin let me tell you somethin' now about hip hop about D-Nice, Melodie, and Scott La Rock I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker mainly what I write is for the average New Yorker some mc's be talkin' and talkin' tryin' to show how black people are walkin but I don't walk this way to portray or reinforce stereotypes of today like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon talk broken english and drug sellin' See I'm tellin, and teaching real facts The way some act in rap is kind of wack and it lacks creativity and intelligence but they don't care cause the company is sellin' it It's my philosophy, on the industry Don't bother dissin me, or even wish that we'd soften, dilute, or commercialize all our lyrics Cause it's about time one of y'all hear it And hear it first-hand from the intelligent brown man A vegetarian, no goat or ham or chicken or turkey or hamburger 'cause to me that's suicide self-murder let us get back to what we call hip hop and what it meant to DJ Scott La Rock... [Verse Three] How many mc's must get dissed before somebody says, 'Don't f*** with Kris!' this is just one style, out of many Like a piggy bank, this is one penny My brother's name is Kenny - that's, Kenny Parker My other brother I.C.U. is much darker Boogie Down Productions is made up of teachers the lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker Who gets weaker? The king or the teacher It's not about a salary it's all about reality Teachers teach and do the world good kings just rule and most are never understood If you were to rule or govern a certain industry All inside this room right now would be in misery No one would get along nor sing a song 'cause everyone'd be singing for the king, am I wrong?! So yo, what's up, it's me again Scott La Rock, KRS, BDP again many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend We're criminal minded, an album which is only ten Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records no more than four minutes and some seconds the competition checks and checks and keeps checkin' they buy the album, take it home, and start sweatin' why? well it's simple, to them it's kind of vital to take KRS-One's title to them I'm like an idol, some type of entity in everybody's rhyme they wanna mention me? or rather mention us, me or Scott La Rock but they can get bust get robbed, get dropped I don't play around nor do I f*** around and you can tell by the bodies that are left around when some clown jumps up to get beat down broken down to his very last compound see how it sounds? a little unrational a lot of mc's like to use the word DRAMATICAL! Fresh for '88, you suckas... |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Verse One: KRS-One
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Worldwide BDP are the freshest!
Worldwide! Worldwide! Worldwide! One two three, the crew is called BDP and if you want to go to the tip top stop the violence in hip-hop, Y-O Time and time again, as I pick up the pen as my thoughts emerge, these are those words I glance at the paper to know what's going on someone's doing wrong, the story goes on Mary Lue's had a baby someone else decapitated the drama of the world shouldn't keep us so frustrated I look, but it doesn't coincide with my books social studies when I speak upon political crooks It's just the presidents, and all the money they spent all the things they invent and how the house is so immaculate They paid missiles, my family's eating gristle then they get upset when the press blows the whistle Of course the main profiles are kept low you temper with some jobs, now the press is controlled Not only newspapers, but every single station you only get to hear the president is on vacation But ehrm, stay calm, there's no need for alarm You say 'go back' to your mom, and you're off to Vietnam You shoot to kill, come back and you're a veteran but how many veterans are out there pedaling? There's no telling, 'cause they continue selling As quiet as it's kept, I won't go into depth You can talk about Nigeria, people used to laugh at ya. Now I take a look, I say 'USA for Africa?!' Huh. What's the solution, to stop all this confusion? Rewrite the constitution, change the drug which you're using Rewrite the constitution or the emancipation proclamation we fight inflation, yet the president's still on vacation BDP posse! I say: one two three, the crew is called BDP And if you wanna go to the tip top stop the violence in the hip-hop, Y-O This might sound a little strange to you well here's the reason I came to you We gotta put our heads together, and stop the violence Cause real bad boys move in silence When you're in a club, you come to chill out not watch someones blood just spill out That's what these other people want to see another race fight endlessly You know we're being watched, you know we're being seen Some wish to destroy this scene called hip-hop But I won't drop not I or Scott LaRock Now here is the message that we bring today: hip-hop will surely decay if we as a people don't stand up and say: 'Stop the violence!' 'Stop the violence!' 'Stop the violence!' 'Stop the violence!' 'Stop the violence!' I say: one two three, the crew is called BDP And if you wanna go to the tip top stop the violence in the hip-hop, Y-O BDP and me we step into the party top celebrity Say when we're coming to dance, we never have to pay a fee Cause that's where we got R-E-S-P-E-C-T I have this one wife, her name is Miss Melody I know I'm from the Bronx, she from the Brooklyn posse I tell ya look a little like this, then I tell you some that I Sometimes I got my gear on, sometimes I wear a hat Sometimes I'm in a Mercedes and sometimes I'm in a plain Sometimes I find myself upon the number two train Some people look at me and see negativity some people look at me and see positivity But when I see myself I see creativity So if I can create, well then I make some money Sha man, just put your hands up if you're out here gettin' paid Sha man, just put your hands up if you're out here gettin' paid One two three, the crew is called BDP And if you wanna go to the tip top stop the violence in the hip-hop, Y-O |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
[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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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Live Hardcore Worldwide (1991)
Verse One
The day begins, with a grin And a prayer to excuse my sins I can walk anywhere I choose Cause everybody listens to the B.D.P. crew We're not here for glamour or fashion But here's the question I'm askin Why is it young black kids taught {flashin?} They're only taught how to read, write, and act It's like teachin a dog to be a cat You don't teach white kids to be black Why is that? Is it because we're the minority? Well black kids follow me Genesis chapter eleven verse ten Explains the geneology of Chem Chem was a black man, in Africa If you repeat this fact they can't laugh at ya Genesis fourteen verse thirteen Abraham steps on the scene Being a descendent of Chem which is a fact Means, Abraham too was black Abraham born in the city of a black man Called Nimrod grandson of Kam Kam had four sons, one was named Canaan Here, let me do some explaining Abraham was the father of Isaac Isaac was the father of Jacob Jacob had twelve sons, for real And these, were the children of Isreal According to Genesis chapter ten Egyptains descended from {Hahm,Kam} Six hundred years later, my brother, read up Moses was born in Egypt In this era black Egyptians weren't right They enslaved black Isrealites Moses had to be of the black race Because he spent fourty years in Pharoah's place He passed as the Pharoah's grandson So he had to look just like him Yes my brothers and sisters take this here song Yo, correct the wrong The information we get today is just wack But ask yourself, why is that? Verse Two The age of the ignorant rapper is done Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone The stereotype must be lost That love and peace and knowledge is soft Do away with that and understand one fact For love, peace must attack And attack real strong, stronger than war To conquer it and its law Mental pictures, stereotypes and fake history Reinforces mystery And when mystery is reinforced That only means that knowledge has been lost When you know who you really are Peace and knowledge shines like a star I'm only showin you a simple fact It Takes A Nation of MILLIONS to Hold Us people Back Which is wack, but we can correct that Teach and learn what it is to be black Cause they're teachin birds to be a cat But ask yourself homeboy, why is that? |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Intro: KRS-One
Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you see a devil down Ah yeah, that's whatcha say when you take the devil's crown Ah yeah, stay alive all things will change around Ah yeah, what? Ah yeah! Verse One: KRS-One So here I go kickin science in ninety-five I be illin, parental discretion is advised still don't call me nigga, this MC goes for his Call me God, cause that's what the black man is Roamin through the forest as the hardest lyrical artist Black women you are not a bitch you're a Goddess Let it be known, you can lean on KRS-One Like a wall cause I'm hard, I represent GOD Wack MC's have only one style: gun buck But when you say, "Let's buck for revolution" They shut the fuck up, kid, get with it Down to start a riot in a minute You'll hear so many Bowe-Bowe-Bowe, you think I'm Riddick While other MC's are talkin bout up with hope down with dope I'll have a devil in my infrared scope, WOY! That's for calling my father a boy and, KLAK KLAK KLAK! That's for putting scars on my mother's back, BO! That's for calling my sister a hoe, and for you BUCK BUCK BUCK, cause I don't give a motherfuck Remember the whip, remember the chant, remember about rope and you black people still thinkin about vot-ing Every president we ever had lied You know I'm kinda glad Nixon died! Chorus Verse Two: KRS This is not the first time I came to the planet But everytime I come, only a few could understand it I came as Isis, my words they tried to ban it I came as Moses, they couldn't follow my commandments I came as Solomon, to a people that was lost I came as Jesus, but they nailed me to a cross I came as Harriet Tubman, I put the truth to Sojourner Other times, I had to come as Nat Turner They tried to burn me, lynch me and starve me So I had to come back as Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley They tried to harm me, I used to be Malcolm X Now I'm on the planet as the one called KRS Kickin the metaphysical, spiritual, tryin to like get wit you, showin you, you are invincible The Black Panther is the black answer for real In my spiritual form, I turn into Bobby Seale On the wheels of steel, my spirit flies away and enters into Kwame Ture Chorus Verse Three: KRS-One In the streets there is no EQ, no di-do-di-do-di-do So I grab the air and speak through the code the devil cannot see through as I unload into another cerebellum Then I can tell em, because my vibes go through denim and leather whatever, however, I'm still rockin We used to pick cotton, now we pick up cotton when we shoppin Have you forgotten why we buildin in a cypher Yo hear me kid, government is building in a pyramid The son of God is brighter than the son of man The spirit is, check your dollar bill G, here it is We got no time for fancy mathematics Your mental frequency frequently pickin up static Makin you a naked body, attic and it's democratic They press auto, and you kill it with an automatic Chorus |
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4:42 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
(feat. Busta Rhymes)
Verse One: KRS-One Check, I control your mind with one rhyme I speak And get you open like a prostitutes buttcheeks Rapper get kicked in they mouth with cleets cause they're speech refuses to reach beyond the beach Have a seat quick I speak or spit flicks on your ??? Time to complete shit, no weak shit, I mean freak shit properly I can feel myself becoming a lyric monopoly Others will copy me but repeat my shit sloppily Shocking me with inclinations of rocking me Insanity it got to be My true idenity is never meant to see I simply use the gifts sent to me mentally [Busta Rhymes] Yo! Word up! Get from out my face, before you get bust quickly! Verse two: KRS-One Thats the hip hop, the hibby I rip it in a minute cause I'm gifted Like December 25th Now let me flip I'm all knowing lyrically syllable growing Even when it's snowing I'm party going Free flowing and stomping! Never tip-toeing Overthrowing the comp Big up Bronx! I got more styles than the planet got women I got as many rhymes as is many styles of women Don't make me come out on that ass start flippin' Your mental I'm afflictin' Actin' ill and sickin' Pickin' the victim at random, slammin' 'em Draggin' them to the stage and dismantlin' them As my Hydrogen turns to Helium I shine! None of your lyrics I'm feelin' 'em You rhyme Like you should be wearin' an apron scrapin' a pot with a name like Mariam Chorus: But rappers talk too much shit And can't back it up with lyrics Build ya skills It's time for the raw shit Not that on tour shit That real hardcore shit KRS-One runs shit like diarrhea Bitin' motherfuckers hear my shit and get up outta here! I don't care this year Alot of albums is wak this year "Will KRS bring it?" Ahh yeah! Thanks for the invite It's just about to get hype That straight up raw street type shit is what it feel like I will be displayin' lyrical styles I'm saying Lyrical styles from the miracle child Want a pile of ill styles wildin' on your radio dial? Smile I been here for awhile Peep my style while I go on with the song I rock the microphone then it to the streets with the Krylon clicka clacka! clicka clacka! Take a spraycan and slap a wak rapper! Stacks of money for videos I don't have it You're lookin' at the last MC with true talent Get your tape recorder fast kid Boombastic another classic Turn up the cassette! All my styles are lyrically fantastic and movin' While soothin' any urges for booing Ungluing your mouth from my private The more the merrier Syllable superior East coast- West Coast battles are inferior Cause I by myself will take out the whole North America We need to expand rap beyond this land Set up competitions with England and Japan World cups for rappers that really fuck shit for fun ....Yeah I know I'll get one Chorus |
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4:25 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Some fear de 'matic
Ah hah hah, heh heh heh, EHHH Check it out Some fear de 'matic, yes de automatic Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it De automatic, get de automatic Tonight a rapper gwan die Crazy MC's waste they time chasin' millions While KRS-One, holds the minds of the children I'm buildin' a followin' of a hundred and forty-four thousand Chosen few heads up in project housin' A true rapper, street rapper, rappin' to the center I enter any cipher, with tales of adventure If rappers are ridin' beats like cars, I'm bendin' mad fenders Put down your mic and surrender Youse a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement Kickin' Edutainment while you wait for your arraignment Save it friend before your chest I cave it in I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin' Harley Davidson How do you think I kick a lyrical style no and you figure It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter For starters, I come at you poetically harder De automatic, get de automatic Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it De automatic, get de automatic Tonight a rapper gwan die Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you think you got juice? When you rock a pair of panties underneath your bubblegoose (Word) KRS-One will fuck up parties dramatically My reflex'll slap a wack rapper automatically When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the dark I was sleepin' out in Prospect Park Eatin' one meal every 48 hours Writin' dope rhyme styles that you now devour Don't you realize, that I'm all about survival I got only friends cause I KILLED all my rivals Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they titles From eighty-six to ninety-six completes my first cycle De automatic, get de automatic Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it De automatic, get de automatic Tonight a rapper gwan die I spent 40 days, and 40 nights in the wilderness I'm hard, from head to toe yo there ain't no killin' this I wrote over 100 rap hooks and sociological books, while you worried about your looks Now you want to enter the dragon in sound But I've got the live club show locked down Platinum and gold don't hold in my arena You gots to keep it real on the mic, when they see ya I manifest, in the West the East and overseas The vision in rap is wack, and I don't know of these I represent New York to be specific The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted I grab a jet and land on your set, what the fuck? Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty bucks I start from eighty-six, and bring you into ninety-six No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics De automatic, get de automatic Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it De automatic, get de automatic Tonight a rapper gwan die Yeah yeah it's the God Fat Joe Representin' the motherfuckin' South Bronx With my nigga Kris, knockin' off frauds Motherfuckers want to do what? Big shout out to my nigga Kenny Parker Ill Will, BDP crew for life nigga Naughty Gotto, the Big French productions Of course the TAT crew, my nigga Brim The T.S. crew, and the whole Godsville South Bronx represent nigga, uhh The South Bronx, the South South Bronx South Bronx, the South South Bronx Yeah! Uhh! |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Knowledge, where the people at?
Free Mumia! Channel Live! (KRS-One, come and represent) (The wisdom) Hah hah hah hah hah hahaha! Free Mumia! Everywhere I look there's another house negro Talkin about they people and how they should be equal They talkin but the conversation ain't goin nowhere You can't diss hip-hop, so don't you even go there C. Delores Tucker, you want to quote the scripture Everytime you hear nigga, listen up sista Verse One: Hakim, KRS, Tuffy I met up with this girl named Delores, a prankster I said I MC, she said, "You're a gangster" But she was caught up, she hit the floor like a breakdance Wrapped her up like the arms in a be |
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4:58 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Yeah.. yeah.. yup!
You know what? I was just downstairs and I was on my way up here to the studio and a guy bumped into me and and he said.. he said, "Yo Kris! How is it that you stay in this music? You know, this rap music ex-specially for SO.. LONG.. SO.. LONG" I said, "Well you know years ago I made a deal with the Goddess" He said, "The Goddess?" I said, "Well yeah, you might know her as God but I know her as the Goddess" The universal mother The mother of everything you see in existence I ax-ked her for assistance in lyrical persistence and she gave it to me, under one condition She said, "I'll give you the gift but use the gift to uplift" I said, "Okay mom!" So I tell you the truth, really Me nah gon' need nuttin else but health, wealth, and knowledge of myself Me nah gon' need nuttin else but health, wealth, and knowledge of myself In the beginning was the word, the word was made flesh Knowledge K. Reigns R. Supreme S. Some of us guess while others of us are blessed Take heed to the word, that I manifest I manifest the future, the present, followed by the past Everything in nature, rules by kickin ass What they tellin me, but yo, you a friend to me so I'ma tell you the secrets of MC longevity Secret one: if it ain't fun, you're done And about your career, huh, well choose another one If you don't like what you do, you're through Lesson two: make sure you got a dope crew Not some crew, that's like an anchor on a shoe A MAD CREW, that's of some benefit to you Lesson three, might be contradictory or funny but MC's should have OTHER WAYS of gettin money That's to say learn other things beside music Make money elsewhere, Hip-Hop you won't abuse it Too many MC's, just emcee so their longevity, is based on an Uncle Tom at the record company Lesson four: sell your image, never sell a record Image is respected, records come and go and get collected Even the records of platinum artists, that used to rip shop can be bought, for a quarter at the thrift shop Which brings me to lesson number five, the illusion has me thinkin, the minute they drop a record they'll be cruisin, in the Acura Slow down! You're still a amateur What separates the pro from the amateur is stamina Not how long you can rhyme, but how long you've been rhymin changin with the times, and findin yourself still CLIIIIIIIIIIIIMbin for wealth Blow for blow, you're still growin, still showin (all knowin) now that's a pro at it Me nah gon' need nuttin else but health, wealth, and knowledge of myself Me nah gon' need nuttin else but health, wealth, and knowledge of myself Thank you Mother, I'm out |
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5:55 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Yeah yeah
Mmmmm Mm Alright, here we go I'm thinkin' real hard about some money I can hold But everybody I know is deep in the hole A steady payin' job is too hard for me to hold I call around for work but they puttin' me on hold But in my hand a shiny .45 is what I hold I make a mayonnaise sandwich out of some whole- Wheat, I'm feelin' weak, I can't hold I gotta rob somebody tonight and take the whole Bank roll, some cash I gotta hold At the bottom of my shoe is a little bitty hole That's it, my mental sanity I can't hold I'm walkin' to the store with this pistol that I hold Yeah yeah Half of me is sayin' maintain and uphold Suddenly I bump into some asshole He's cursin' me out, but this pistol that I hold Took control, and in his head I put a hole Ahhh man, now I'm lookin' around the whole Area, the gun is still hot that I hold I'm buggin' out, and I don't know how much longer I can hold I feel myself sinkin' deeper in the hole So in my victim's pants I rip a little hole And felt for the wallet, and took the whole Bill-fold, forty bucks is what I hold Suddenly I hear, Freeze! Police! Hold Yeah mmmmm Come on Yeah wooh Come on In the penitentiary I see a whole Bunch of blacks and Hispanics that they hold In my cell I cry like hell, my head I hold One day somebody ax if my shoes they could hold I told this guy, Listen! My shoe's got a hole But what's up with that shiny sharp knife that you hold? He lunged forth, the first thing that I thought of was to hold The arm with the knife so that he couldn't put a hole In me, but then I put him in a chokehold Took the knife and in his neck I put a hole Suddenly all the C.O's come to me and it's me they hold Beat my ass and I spend two weeks in the hole I'm ready to bug out, my sanity I can't hold My needs and wants messed up my life on a whole Damn. Just wasn't satisfied with life Yeah uh Yeah Check The moral to the story is your addiction to your needs and your Wants is what causes problems in your life. Make sure you got whatcha Need. Put at a safe distance all the things that you want. It's wants That get you into trouble This is the balance of life the balance to life on a whole |
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4:56 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Clap your hands everybody
if you got what it takes Cos I'm KRS and I'm on the mic and Premier's on The Breaks If you don't know me by now I doubt you'll ever know me I never won a Grammy I won't win a Tony But I'm not the only MC keepin it real When I grab the mic to smash a rapper girls go Illlll Check the time as I rhyme it's 1995 Whenever I arrive the party gets liver Flow with the master rhymer that's to leave behind The video rapper you know the chart climbe Clapper down goes another rapper Onto another matter punch up the data Blastmaster Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody Call up KRS I'm guaranteed to rip a party Flat top braids bald heads or natty dread There once was a story about a man named Jed But now Jed is dead all his kids instead Want to kick rhymes off the top of they head Word what go around come around I figure Now we got white kids callin themselves niggas The tables turned as the crosses burned Remember You Must Learn About the styles I flip and how wild I get I go on like a space age rocket ship You could be a mack a pimp hustler or player But make sure live you is a dope rhyme sayer This is what you waited all year for The hardcore that's what KRS is here for Big up Grand Wizard Theodore gettin ill If you see then ya saw I'm in your grill with mad skill MC's can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines Let's battle to see who headlines Instead of flow for flow let's go show for show Toe for toe you you better act like you know Too many MC's take that word emcee lightly They can't Move a Crowd not even slightly It might be the fact that they express wackness Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest I flip a script a little bit you ride the tip and shit Too sick to get with it admit you bit your style is counterfeit Now tone it down a bit My title you will never get I'm too intelligent I'll send your family my sentiments my style is toxic When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head I knock it It split quick from the lyric Direct hit perfect fit you can't get with it Some MC's don't like the KRS but they must respect him Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum Slappin and selectin em checkin em disrespectin em Just deckin em deckin em deck in em Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine I design rhyme and get mine all the time MC's standin on the sidelines always dissin When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin I don't burn I don't freeze yet some MC's Believe they could tangle with the likes of these Cross your t's and dot your i's whenever I arrive Wide magnified live like the ocean tide You dope you lied I reside like artefacts On the wrong side of the tracks electrified Comin around the mountain you run and hide Hopin your defence mechanism can divert my heat seeking lyricism As I spark mad iszm The 1996 lyrical style's what I give em |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
* train whistle *
Yo right here, right here It's right through the fence, right through the fence Jump! |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Reality, ain't always the truth
Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth "These are the streets! Shit is real out here! This ain't no fuckin joke!" I lived in a spot called Millbrooke Projects The original Criminal Minded rap topic With twenty cents in my pocket I saw the light If you're young gifted and black, you got no rights Your only true right, is a right to a fight and not a fair fight, I wake up wonderin who died last night Everyone and everything is at war Makin my poetic expression hardcore I ain't afraid to say it, and many can't get with it At times in my life, I was a welfare recipient I ate the free cheese, while the church said believe and went to school everyday, like a god damn fool Well anyway, here I am, chillin at the party Brothers lookin at me like they want to kill somebody A cypher manifested in the center of the jam I got to show these wack rappers really who I am It's me against them, so I clear the phlegm and wage the war, hardcore to the end For someone lookin inside, yeah from the out it seems like disrespect is what rap is all about But hip-hop as a culture, is really what we give it But sometimes the culture contradicts how we live it Cause every black kid lives two and three lives The city's a jungle, only the strong will survive Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth Every single day I hear lie after lie Like "Black people don't die, we multiply" So when I kick a rhyme I represent how I feel The sacred street art of keepin it real Why I gotta listen, to somebody else? How they got wealth, let me talk about myself But all I really got is hip-hop and a glock The results are obvious, if I'm confined to my block Occasionally, in the city I'm released to meet other beasts, lookin for the feast We grunt and growl, on the prowl, as the air gets thinner "Yo yo there he go, him," there's the dinner White meat, carryin a bag of some sort Life is short, white meat is quickly caught A scuffle a muffle yet none of us hesitated Like Mother Africa, white meat is violated We quickly disappear, like Santa's little elves And go into a area to fight amongst ourselves We say, "peace/piece" cause that's what we really want A piece of the pie that America flaunts Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth "Oh shit!" The truth is that police must serve and protect REALITY is black youth is shown no respect The truth is government has a war against drugs REALITY is government is ruled by thugs With all this technology, above and under Humanity still hunts down one another Rappers display artistic cannibalism through lyricism, we fight each other over rhythm Through basic animal instincts, we think So the battle for mental territory is glory, end of story Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth Reality, ain't always the truth Rhymes Equal Actual Life, In The Youth Yeah "These are the streets! Shit is real out here! This ain't no fuckin joke!" |
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5:56 |
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| from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995) | |||||
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4:39 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Only a few... will understand
and appreciate what's about to happen Das EFX, come in!!! Verse One: Das EFX [Drayz] Well it's the super duper rhymer rhymer I'm about to set it Niggaz best forget it let it be or you'll regret it D So what it B... the D to the fuckin P (Yo it's me the lyricist they fear in this as you can see) I be's the ultimate, drop the ultra shit, fuck the other shit Biggety buttah shit is how we comin kid we runnin shit Now who you fuckin with is Diggey Das EFX'n We flexin, cause kid we got this rhyme and took effect y'all [Books] Aiyyo I figgety flow I rocket blow a nigga out the socket Keep in mind to keep the dread, now they like my pocket, watch it It's the rhyme fiend about a second from the crime scene The boogie banger twisted off the lime green Fuck a dime we, strictly fifty, the BDP and Hit Squad committee King of my city, ask my cousin Smitty, yo Got to get the dough, got to blow the spot Diggity Das KRS East coast on lock Verse Two: Das-EFX, KRS [Drayz] To corny niggaz y'all get ate, my shit'll make you faint So much platinum on my walls that I can hardly see the fuckin paint You think it ain't before a year and stopped recordin Now look we comin back and runnin shit like fuckin Michael Jordan Accordin, to my niggaz in the sewer Yo you a, corny nigga so we gots ta do ya [Books] This for my niggaz on the block, handlin rock like Kenny Anderson I'm brandishin, stiggedy styles to keep MC's vanishing Scattering, fuck it, styles don't be mattering My pattern's amazing son Blazing like a Saddle and Battling's a no-no, got more Fame than Coco I'm paid and still drips ya with a blade from my logo So take your, style and Go-Go like D.C. niggaz y'all know the haps we movin strapped on the East nigga [Drayz] Yo, yo, well miggedy mayday, mayday, it's Crazy Drayz's payday I riggedy wreck it eryday, kick shit like fuckin Pele But wait a, minute, cause we get in it for the masses For classes, yo KRS come get up in they asses [KRS] What... I say, follow me follow me with my syllable syllable lyrical criminal MC threats are minimal to my phsyical they just whittle and whittle away, with little and little to say As they piddle and paddle away, they say OK But I chop that ass up anyway What's your handle I got mad MC heads upon a mantle I got genuine MC skin sandals I light the mic up like a candle, watch it melt Cause when I felt lyrics you both are screamin for help when you hear it, you can't bear it, you can't even wear it You oughts to just cheer it, go get it spirit!! As I fa-la-la-la-la, I'm comin with that rara Rockin mics when you was googoo gaga to your momma You wanted to battle KRS when you was young you told your poppa He slapped you in your head and said UHH-UHH But you didn't heed the warning Now I'm in the place, now I'm your face Lookin at your crew but they all broke out because they nothin but lace KRS is like mace, in your motherfuckin face Yo DJ Dice, tear down the place!! |
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5:04 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
Hah, respect!
All crew, all massive, everywhere in the world You practice the art of hip-hop This goes out to every boy and every girl Give me relief! I sing! Give me relief! Squash all beef! Don't let these arguments destroy us! I sing! Give me relief! Squash all beef! Don't let these arguments destroy us! Check it All beef can be squashed if you want it But instead of forgiveness, ego you flaunt it Everybody gets into two or three quarrels Leadin to a squabble, someone will die tomorrow Life is not a thing you can borrow All beefs don't have to lead to sorrow will ya, go out tomorrow I think, you should think about the beef you got And confront your enemy before it gets too hot Never feel ashamed, to say, "Yo G I'm sorry I apologize," the object is to stay alive |
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3:47 |
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| from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995) | |||||
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4:22 |
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from KRS-One - Krs-One (1995)
One two, testing one two
Alright party people in the place to be The party has already started An-an-an-and it's about to il-il-il-ill *echoes* Let me introduce you to another type of rapper MC where glamour and glitter don't matter gently I'm tired of the Chattanooga empty Classical like a German luger Deep like a tune for scuba diving who am I the hyper Like I said before my radar's going BIBBIT BIBBIT The microphone I grip-it grip-it, lyric lyric I live it Hear it my spirit is where it should be Don't push me if you pussy, HUH I spot em, it seems you want to ride the dillz I got em, KRS got skills in the place I waste megahertz of bass bottom, chill As I rock em and get ill, I build the perfect spot to kill Verbal excitement will lead to your indictment Whether or not you like it, still, number one I hype it Your album, rewrite it How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC Triplet syllables for minimal criminals Lyrical riddles that got hard flavors in the middle Sit back and chittle as I stand and still rebuild on skills The admission of serial lyrics, calculated to weaken the spirit will be diverted by this lyric when you hear it Ricochet any style any day Any which way and you'll Cherish the Day like Sade The advanced oratorical techniques I speak Keep the heat at full peak! My grammar with stamina, grabs a rapper like the fresh catch of the day and crack the back of that DJ I'm strappin and attackin a pack And whatever happens after that just happens, FACT Flamboyant and flashy is one point in time when you're not ashy Focus on the syllable formats and the cash G G for guard your grill, I'm hard to kill Odd but ill, a job to fill is to refill on skills We built and killed style and skill while poetically recriminate you like a child I will get ill, and switch to earn Cause I prefer to slur but not blur Blurring you're stirring up trouble surely you don't need it be seated I'm undefeated dem not see it Observe me then beat it How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC Let's get back to the point quickly, get with me The voice from New York City is too witty I come from a era of ?OJ cars?, Latin Quarter fake Gucci and fake Fendi, you can't send me Nowhere, that I ain't been to You can't tell me nuttin that I ain't been through Disrespect the teacher I gots to get you *cause they can't MC* But what you really sayin You sound like a bitch-ass rapper when he's saying "Yo Kris you hit too hard" stop playing! Switching and swaying Day in and day out, your styles are played out, see you way out Before you're laid out, your bright lights start to fade out The last thing you heard is "Who let the K out?" ?No great area? Everything is black and white we took the gray out it's scarier Either you're winnin or losin, spinnin the rules of conscience But lyrically there ain't no stoppin I'm droppin a lot in your noggin Cause I know that you're lyrically starvin Carbon, your name, battle battle Everybody wants to battle but you BAB-BLE Who knows ya, battlin me, is the only way that you can gain exposure I feel for ya soldier I hate to say it but I told ya so You know that I know the ancient flow KRS-One is the holder of a boulder yo, money folder yo You want a fresh style let me show you slow your blow, I'm not your foe Battling me? No no no no no no NO! How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC How many MC's, wannabemceez Never be MC's, cause they can't MC [Mad Lion] If a DJ think he man den he better prepare for war!! BDP crew get up in that ass like a piece of toilet tissue General Lion I chase them all and I am on fiyah Represent the hardest crew, you know how we do Anything tess, dead! Gun shot to dem head Gwan *echoes* |
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3:35 |
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from High School High (굿모닝 스쿨) by Ira Newborn [omnibus, ost] (1996)
Wake up your mind black people, it's ill
Superior people use superior skill We can defeat any congressional bill at will The hip-hop nation will prevail all problems in society with inner city philosophy The hip-hop in me must come out or die to lock in me, no doubt Executed properly I bigin to shout out, splat out approximately three single syllable words per second like I am God, you are God, we are God, forget it Time to sell it in a lyrical battle, I'll never jet it Like a shot to ya head I'm embedded in your mind With constant conscience lyrical rhyme At the end of time, I'll be in my prime Read the sign, men, rhymin like an oratorical shymin I look still but I'm climbin Newsflash here's the latest findin Ya whole environment created in ya mind and in ya heart Hip-hop displays art The highest level of mental expression, play your part *I'm the intelligent wise on the mic (x3) Everybody knows All these motherfuckers tryin to be large with their two car garage just like El DeBarge It's played out, fadin out, over Talk to ya broker, time to give back that Range Rover, soldier! I told ya woe onto the hip-hop perpetrator Wholesome like a neighbour stealin all ya flavour Danger danger ya better rearrange ya thinkin Check what you eatin and drinkin, ya breath is stinkin with the stench of a snitch with information, leakin linkin up with the enemies of Kris speakin But I'm already in 1999 feelin fine while most MCs will be out of sight and outta mind Rewind cos I got a little bit of time Negativity will be wiped out by pain after turpentine I find my rhymes combines mobility, creativity positivity, purger of sensibility to a wide vicinity, engulfin your facility O silly me, killin me I begin to see your stupidity I rock way hard you can't get wit me or go wit me or float wit me Frankly, this is wrong, people, poetry Forget ya little off-the-head rhyme It's way past your bedtime, for the tenth time forget tryin ta get mine I went from the park with my arc in the dark A simple spark, the little Park sparked now I'm in ya heart Everytime you think I'm comin one way, I come another way If you ain't got no fly rhymes, say today Run away, run away, run away....little boy Like the TAT crew I terrorise your toys Noise is what I hear when you shout your rhyme into the atmosphere The blast master's here! *Repeat (x2) Now which motherfucker wants their title tooken, defended I see my schedule it's open-ended I can move somethin around like ya booty ass sound, beginner What happened? You couldn't be an Apollo Amatuer Night winner? Now the teacher you retrudge Don't you know I am that lyrical gate keeper You'll get railed like the sleeper No peep tha, no peep mine, no peep this hard style that keeps the party floatin like a foetus, meanwhile you hold your head, you can't belive this godchild This sins recommend ya and because you're not fertile or fertile Your reflex's slow like a turtle Yeah my picture you circle from papers and journals Without rehearsal, *?mic is first all?* is the worst I verse, I burst sua Into a million children in Tiananmen buildings Willing and start illing, comin thru the ceiling Enough of this reteric let's start building |
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4:20 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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5:20 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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5:16 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
[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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4:07 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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5:03 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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4:21 |
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
[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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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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| from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997) | |||||
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from Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded (1997)
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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| from Dangerous Ground - Music From the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (데인저러스 그라운드) [ost] (1997) | |||||
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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
(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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
[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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from KRS-One - I Got Next (1997)
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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from Blade (블레이드) by Mark Isham [ost] (1998)
Only a few... will understand
and appreciate what's about to happen Das EFX come in!!! Verse One: Das EFX [Drayz] Well it's the super duper rhymer rhymer I'm about to set it Niggaz best forget it let it be or you'll regret it D So what it B... the D to the fuckin P (Yo it's me the lyricist they fear in this as you can see) I be's the ultimate drop the ultra shit fuck the other shit Biggety buttah shit is how we comin kid we runnin shit Now who you fuckin with is Diggey Das EFX'n We flexin, cause kid we got this rhyme and took effect y'all [Books] Aiyyo I figgety flow I rocket blow a nigga out the socket Keep in mind to keep the dread, now they like my pocket, watch it It's the rhyme fiend about a second from the crime scene The boogie banger twisted off the lime green Fuck a dime we, strictly fifty, the BDP and Hit Squad committee King of my city, ask my cousin Smitty, yo Got to get the dough, got to blow the spot Diggity Das KRS East coast on lock Verse Two: Das-EFX, KRS [Drayz] To corny niggaz y'all get ate, my shit'll make you faint So much platinum on my walls that I can hardly see the fuckin paint You think it ain't before a year and stopped recordin Now look we comin back and runnin shit like fuckin Michael Jordan Accordin, to my niggaz in the sewer Yo you a, corny nigga so we gots ta do ya [Books] This for my niggaz on the block, handlin rock like Kenny Anderson I'm brandishin, stiggedy styles to keep MC's vanishing Scattering, fuck it, styles don't be mattering My pattern's amazing son Blazing like a Saddle and Battling's a no-no, got more Fame than Coco I'm paid and still drips ya with a blade from my logo So take your, style and Go-Go like D.C. niggaz Y'all know the haps we movin strapped on the East nigga [Drayz] Yo, yo, well miggedy mayday, mayday, it's Crazy Drayz's payday I riggedy wreck it eryday, kick shit like fuckin Pele But wait a, minute, cause we get in it for the masses For classes, yo KRS come get up in they asses [KRS] What... I say, follow me follow me with my syllable syllable lyrical criminal MC threats are minimal to my phsyical they just whittle and whittle away, with little and little to say As they piddle and paddle away, they say OK But I chop that ass up anyway What's your handle I got mad MC heads upon a mantle I got genuine MC skin sandals I light the mic up like a candle, watch it melt Cause when I felt lyrics you both are screamin for help when you hear it, you can't bear it, you can't even wear it You oughts to just cheer it, go get it spirit!! As I fa-la-la-la-la, I'm comin with that rara Rockin mics when you was googoo gaga to your momma You wanted to battle KRS when you was young you told your poppa He slapped you in your head and said UHH-UHH But you didn't heed the warning Now I'm in the place, now I'm your face Lookin at your crew but they all broke out because they nothin but lace KRS is like mace, in your motherfuckin face Yo DJ Dice, tear down the place!! |
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| from Boogie Down Productions - Man & His Music (1998) | |||||
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Buck buck buck-buck-buck, buck-buck buck buck!
All rude bwoy lissen up! Black cop!! Black cop black cop black cop Stop shootin black people, we all gonna drop You don't even get, paid a whole lot So take your M-60 and put it 'pon lock! Take your four-five and you put it 'pon lock! Lookin for your people when you walk down a block Here in America you have drug spot They get the black cop, to watch the drug spot The black drug dealer just avoid black cop They're killin each other on a East Coast block Killin each other on a West Coast block White police, don't give a care about dat Dem want us killin each other over crack Anyway you put it it's a black on BLACK Black cop black cop black cop Black cop black cop black cop Thirty years, there were no black cops You couldn't even run, drive round the block Recently police trained black cop To stand on the corner, and take gunshot This type of warfare isn't new or a shock It's black on black crime again nonSTOP Black cop!! Black cop black cop Black cop black cop black cop Don't be the sucker.. Don't be the sucker comin into my face.. Don't be the sucker.. Here's what the West and the East have in common Both have black cops in cars profilin Hardcore kids in the West got stress In the East we are chased by the same black beast The black cop is the only real obstacle Black slave turned black cop is not logical But very psychological, haven't you heard? It's the BLACK COP killin black kids in Johannesburg Whassup black cop, yo, whassup?! Your authorization says shoot your nation You wanna uphold the law, what could you do to me? The same law dissed the whole black community You can't play both sides of the fence 1993 mad kids are gettin tense Black cop!! Black cop black cop black cop Stop shootin black people we all gonna drop You don't even get, paid a whole lot Take your four-five and you put it 'pon lock! Take your M-60 and put it 'pon lock! Take your uzi, put it 'pon lock! Black cop black cop black cop Black cop black cop black cop Don't be the sucker.. Don't be the sucker.. Don't be the sucker.. Don't be the sucker comin into my face Don't.. don't be the sucker comin into my face Don't-don't-don't be the sucker comin into my face Don't-don't-don't-don't Don't be the sucker comin into my face Don't-don't, don't-don't Don't be the sucker comin into my face Don't-don't-don't! Don't be the sucker comin into my face with that yang-yang |
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5:19 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
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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5:05 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Verse 1 Am I supposed to stand here? These bright lights I'll probably get a tan here Scott turn up the master So I can hear and talk faster I'm the Blastmaster cos I'm blasted I know a lot of y'all are shocked that I've lasted But Blastmaster is a subtitle KRS ONE is more vital And more lethal and more vicious As the suckers always say "He just dissed us! He got a problem, yo, he's conceited" I'm not conceited, they just couldn't beat it Cos when I'm in a club I like to mingle Seconds later they're playin' that single Loud as a collision and pumped up dramatically So the people in the place will automatically Time it, and dance right behind it Those that have it on tape will rewind it It's not surprising, we rock parties Anywhere, anyone, anybody Some sound shoddy, like cardboard But I'm blessed, praise the lord You see I like to study, I like money I like eatin' wheat bread with honey But to none of these am I addicted I like to remain free and unafflicted With the sickness of attachment The material road of entrapment Those that walk this road become weak They can't think, they can't speak Unself-sufficient, cos they're leeching I'm not dissin', I'm simply teachin' Well if you notice, not once Have I said Scott's name to gain fame See it's a shame that they're blinded If they had a piece of paper I'd sign it That's called an autograph, this is called a class I've only come to educate the mass Of young people, to this there's no sequel Just a message, be peaceful And loving, but not a sucker And stay away from negative motherfuckers They only pull you down with their hate But wait, here's somethin' to meditate... Verse 2 Downratin' statements you always seem to make You never wanna create cos b-boys you don't affiliate You're self-whipped cos you claim it's not a gift To execute the rhyme on time without a shift You only utter negativity, never productivity For the b-boy talent or b-boy productivity Yet when all the currency comes in tax free You wanna see me? My name is Kris and now you guessed this I got X-ray vision and I'm lookin' through your game It's the same, what a shame, now take aim on what I shall obtain Absolute respect from you, con, cos now you know it I'm Blastmaster KRS ONE, short for poet I do not read the paper, I read the dictionary Cos nuclear destruction, yeah, AIDS just doesn't scare me The girls be lookin' sweeter, the cops be lookin' meaner Carryin' bigger gun, shoot the people for fun If you could realise this you won't be called a toy But yet a b-boy, and I know you'll enjoy Just coolin' out without a doubt, livin' life a little different Yeah, different, never innocent, with a little dilligence I am only 20, yet here's my present level Just one of the Boogie Down Production crew rebels Our reputation grows as the music gets vicious I will succeed while you suckers make wishes Time and time again I prove to be exciting But time and time again you prove to be biting I need no judge, no jury, no lawyers With DJ Scott La Rock, better known as The Destroyer! |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Verse 1 D.J. Doc you know he's down with us D-Square, he's down with us Keyboard Money Mike, is down with us I.C.U., you know he's down with us D-Nice and McBoo, they're down with us Ms. Melodie, she's down with us Just-Ice and DMX, they're down with us My manager Moe, he's down with us Castle-D boy, he's down with us D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us Robocop boy, he's down with us Makin' funky music is a must I'm number one. People still takin' rappin' for a joke A passing hope or a phase with a rope Sometimes I choke and try to believe when I get challenged by a million MCs I try to tell them, "We're all in this together!" My album was raw because no-one would ever think like I think and do what I do I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue What do you think makes up a KRS? Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking? Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble Rebel, renegade, must stay paid not by financial aid, but a raid of hits causing me to take long trips I'm the original teacher of this type of style Rockin' off-beat with a smile or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to BDP Posse so I love to step in the jam and slam I'm not Superman, because anybody can or should be able to rock off turntables Grab the mic, plug it in and begin But here's where the problem starts, no heart Because of that a lot of groups fell apart Rap is still an art, and no-one's from the Old School cuz Rap is still a brand-new tool I say no-one's from the Old School cuz Rap on a whole isn't even twenty years old Fifty years down the line, you can start this cuz we'll be the Old School artists And even in that time, I'll say a rhyme A brand-new style, ruthless and wild Runnin' around spendin' money, havin' fun cuz even then, I'm still number one. Verse 2 Blastmaster KRS-One of course comes to express with style the lost ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present Knock, knock, who is it? A brand-new style, hup, time to change People talk about me when they see me on stage Live in action, guaranteed raw I hang with the rich and I work for the poor Now tomorrow you can say you saw KRS-One stompin' once more I play by ear, I love to steer the Alfa Romeo from here to there I grab the beer, but not in the ride cuz I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive I'm not a beginner, amateur or local My album is sellin' because of my vocals You know what you need to learn? Old School artists don't always burn You're just another rapper who's had his turn Now it's my turn, and I am concerned about idiots posing as kings What are we here to rule? I thought we were supposed to sing And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak KRS-One is something like a total renegade except I don't steal, I rhyme to get paid Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin' Politicians lyin', I'm tryin' not to escape, but hit the problem head-on by bringin' out the truth in a song So BDP, short for Boogie Down Productions made a little noise cuz the crew was sayin' somethin' People have the nerve to take me for a gangster An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster Doin' petty crimes, goin' straight to penitentiary But in a scale of crime that's really elementary This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence why my last jam was so violent It's simple: BDP will teach reality No beatin' around the bush, straight up, just like The P Is Free So now you know, a poet's job is never done But I'm never overworked, cuz I'm still number one. Kool Moe Dee, he's down with us Eric B. and Rakim, they're down with us Stetsasonic, they're down with us Dana Dane, he's down with us Sleeping Bag Records, they're down with us My lawyer Jay, he's down with us Jive/RCA is down with us Makin' funky music is a must I'm number one. |
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4:50 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
[KRS One] Again we start let me say my part About the only guy who has some heart It took some time for the heart to come but it's HERE and everybody's in fear Crashin through the door of that WHORE Bringin a end to this gold chain WAR What you saw KRS One is now seeing Another fly human being Making, no excuses for the losers Chain-snatchers, pimps, drug abusers You don't like it but you gotta keep PUSHIN until somebody starts MUSHIN all these suckers, claimin to rule the environment (Nah man, I ain't buyin it) You seem to think that everybody can be taught that everyone else can be bought But, you took a short, cause one guy hasn't been paid He is the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * [KRS-One] He's a, calm kind of guy, courageous and loyal But don't let the temper boil Cause just like a pot when the whistle blows (That's right boy, anything goes!) The crime is commited and he's right on your tail There's no bail, not thinkin bout jail All the ends, are justified by the means when Jack's on the scene Track the movement, don't lose it cause if he come through the back, he ATTACKS CRACK, cocaine, cops, and more fiends who all get the same in the heat of this gold chain GAME Here is the aim -- destroy all the stereotypes, hypes, and crack pipes We don't like, criminals, and crime -- but we don't pay it any mind So here comes Kung-Fu, Joe, and Fly Guy Slade, Hammer, and Slammer I, am a, renegade teacher and scholar If you ain't up on it you GOTTA fall to the back of the line Hear this rhyme, cause I'ma say it one more time It's JACK'S theme song that KRS made It's called the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * [KRS-One] You know, the Jack of Spades is now down with the BDP Posse If you wanna see more, just watch me MAN, do what I do, throw your hands in the air And scream it out, ohh yeah "OHH YEAHHH!!" One more time! "OHH YEAHHH!!" (Flash the rhyme!) Cool, guy, loud and quiet If your head's in the way, he'll FLY IT Don't try it, cause Jack of Spades doesn't BUY IT He's a one man riot Cleanin the community, of all it's debris The C-R-I-M-E The road was long and scary and some didn't make it The average guy couldn't take it But JACK, is not, the average guy He took a piece of the pie and BIT IT Got with it, for his brother he DID IT So you gotta admit it This is a martyr, a soldier, a hero WHY? Because he started from zero In this battle he clearly understands their power They're payin people by the hour to sell, to lie, to try, to stand up and deny they are gettin everybody HIGH High on a cable, cash under the table Currency is how they're able to buy the cops and props and keep the law PAID But here comes the Jack of Spades! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * [KRS] Break it down! * D-Nice scratches "Jack.. Jack.." * [KRS-One] Fresh.. for Jack of Spades, you SUCKERS Ha ha ha ha ha ha hah.. |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Intro The J the I the M the M The Y the J the I the M It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! x2 Verse 1 Here is a message to the Super Hoes Just keep in mind when Jimmy grows It grows and grows and grows so let it But keep in mind about the epidemic When Jimmy releases boy it pleases But what do you do about all these diseases? Jimmy is Jimmy no matter what So take care of Jimmy cos you know what's up Cos now in winter AIDS attacks So run out and get your Jimmy Hats It costs so little for a pack of three They're Jimmy Hats for the winter attack Good for a present, great for lovers Demonstrated by The Jungle Brothers Protect your Jimmy and keep it fresh They're Jimmy Hats by KRS Chorus So, remember you're never too old (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Remember you're never too bold (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Do me a favour, wear your hat So Jimmy...will have the opportunity to come back Verse 2 Well, Red Alert is down with BDP Teachin' you all about Jimbrowski I don't wanna hear that you're not with it Turn around and see your butt in a clinic Havin' doctors just poke at Jimmy Let me express what now what's in me Too many people take too many risks Too many people I see get dissed Jimmy Hats are now in style Cos you can't trust a big butt and a smile Some are dry and some lubricated Many companies make and made it So all you Super-Hoes, wear your hat Cos drippin' Jimmies is straight up wack Keep in mind about Jimbrowski Jimmy Hats by BDP The J, the I, the M The M, the Y, the J, the I... It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! Repeat chorus |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Ya know that's why man I be telling you all the time man, you know LOVE, that word love is a very serious thing, and if you don't watch out I tell ya that (Love's gonna get you) because a lot of people out here say |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
Clap your hands everybody
if you got what it takes Cos I'm KRS and I'm on the mic and Premier's on The Breaks If you don't know me by now I doubt you'll ever know me I never won a Grammy I won't win a Tony But I'm not the only MC keepin it real When I grab the mic to smash a rapper girls go Illlll Check the time as I rhyme it's 1995 Whenever I arrive the party gets liver Flow with the master rhymer that's to leave behind The video rapper you know the chart climbe Clapper down goes another rapper Onto another matter punch up the data Blastmaster Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody Call up KRS I'm guaranteed to rip a party Flat top braids bald heads or natty dread There once was a story about a man named Jed But now Jed is dead all his kids instead Want to kick rhymes off the top of they head Word what go around come around I figure Now we got white kids callin themselves niggas The tables turned as the crosses burned Remember You Must Learn About the styles I flip and how wild I get I go on like a space age rocket ship You could be a mack a pimp hustler or player But make sure live you is a dope rhyme sayer This is what you waited all year for The hardcore that's what KRS is here for Big up Grand Wizard Theodore gettin ill If you see then ya saw I'm in your grill with mad skill MC's can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines Let's battle to see who headlines Instead of flow for flow let's go show for show Toe for toe you you better act like you know Too many MC's take that word emcee lightly They can't Move a Crowd not even slightly It might be the fact that they express wackness Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest I flip a script a little bit you ride the tip and shit Too sick to get with it admit you bit your style is counterfeit Now tone it down a bit My title you will never get I'm too intelligent I'll send your family my sentiments my style is toxic When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head I knock it It split quick from the lyric Direct hit perfect fit you can't get with it Some MC's don't like the KRS but they must respect him Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum Slappin and selectin em checkin em disrespectin em Just deckin em deckin em deck in em Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine I design rhyme and get mine all the time MC's standin on the sidelines always dissin When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin I don't burn I don't freeze yet some MC's Believe they could tangle with the likes of these Cross your t's and dot your i's whenever I arrive Wide magnified live like the ocean tide You dope you lied I reside like artefacts On the wrong side of the tracks electrified Comin around the mountain you run and hide Hopin your defence mechanism can divert my heat seeking lyricism As I spark mad iszm The 1996 lyrical style's what I give em |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
[verse one] Let's begin what where why or when will all be explained why destruction is a game see I'm not insane in fact I'm kind of rational when I be asking yo who is more dramatical this one that one the white one or the black one pick the punk and I'll jump up to attack one KRS One is just the guy to lead a crew right up to your face and dis you everyone saw me on the last album cover holding a pistol something far from a lover beside my brother S-C-O-T I just laughed 'cause no one can defeat me this selection number two is "My Philosophy" number one was "Poetry" you know it's me it's my philosophy many artists got to learn I'm not flammable I don't burn so please stop burnin' and learn to earn respect 'cause that's just what KR collects see, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk you walk down the street and get jumped you got to have style and learn to be original and everybody's gonna wanna dis you like me we stood up for the South Bronx and every sucka mc had a response you think we care? I know that they are on the tip my posse from the Bronx is thick and we're real live we walk correctly a lot of suckas would like to forget me but they can't 'cause like a champ I have got a record of knocking out the frauds in a second on the mic I believe that you should get loose I haven't come to tell you I have juice I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level I'll be back but for now just seckle [verse two] I'll play the nine and you play the target you all know my name so I guess I'll just start it or should I say, "Start this" I am an artist of new concepts at their hardest yo, cause I'm a teacher and Scot is a scholar it ain't about money cause we all make dollars that's why I walk with my head up when I hear wack rhymes I get fed up rap is like a set-up a lot of games a lot of suckas with colorful names I'm so-and-so I'm this I'm that huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack I'm not white or red or black I'm brown from the Boogie Down Productions of course our music be thumpin' others say their bad but they're buggin let me tell you somethin' now about hip hop about D-Nice, Melodie, and Scot La Rock I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker mainly what I write is for the average New Yorker some mc's be talkin' and talkin' tryin' to show how black people are walkin but I don't walk this way to portray or reinforce stereotypes of today like all my brothas eatin' chicken and watermelon talk broken english and drug sellin' see I'm tellin' and teaching real facts now when some act in rap is kind of wack and it lacks creativity and intelligence but they don't care 'cause the company is sellin' it it's my philosophy on the industry don't bother dissin' me or even wish that we'd soften, dilute, or commercialize all our lyrics 'cause it's about time one of y'all hear it first-hand from the intelligent brown man a vegetarian no goat or ham or chicken or turkey or hamburger 'cause to me that's suicide self-murder let us get back to what we call hip hop and what it meant to DJ Scot La Rock... [verse three] How many mc's must get dissed before somebody says, "Don't f*** with Kris!" this is just one style out of many like a piggy bank this is one penny my brother's name is Kenny Kenny Parker my other brother I.C.U. is much darker Boogie Down Productions is made up of teachers the lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker who gets weaker? the king or the teacher it's not about a salary it's all about reality teachers teach and do the world good kings just rule and most are never understood if you were to rule over a certain industry **** right now would be in misery no one would get along nor sing a song 'cause everyone'd be singing for the king am I wrong?! so yo, what's up it's me again Scot La Rock, KRS, BDP again many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend we're criminal minded and only tend funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records no more than four minutes and some seconds the competition checks and checks and keeps checkin' they get the album take it home and start sweatin' why? well it's simple to them it's kind of vital to take KRS-One's title to them I'm like an idol some type of entity in everybody's rhyme they wanna mention me? or rather mention us me or Scot La Rock but they can get bust get robbed, get dropped I don't play around nor do I f*** around and you can tell by the bodies that are left around when some clown jumps up to get beat down broken down to his very last compound see how it sound? a little unrational a lot of mc's like to use the word DRAMATICAL! Fresh for '88 you suckas... |
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4:29 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
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 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
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 |
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5:08 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
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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4:50 |
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from KRS-One - A Retrospective (2000)
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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가슴네트워크 Review :: 2003-08-09
Subject : KRS-ONE - Kristyles (Koch,2003)
