Boogie Down Productions Criminal Minded **** Beat [krs] i got a **** beat? [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat.. [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat.. [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat!! [all] we got a **** 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 **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat? [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat!! [all] we got the **** 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 **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat! [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat? [all] you got the **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat! [all] we got the **** beat! [krs] i've got the **** beat! [all] you've got the **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat! [all] we got the **** beat [krs] beat that we got?? [all] the **** 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
Boogie Down Productions Criminal Minded **** Beat [krs] i got a **** beat? [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat.. [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat.. [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat!! [all] we got a **** 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 **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat? [all] you got a **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat!! [all] we got the **** 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 **** beat [krs] i got a **** beat! [all] we got a **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat? [all] you got the **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat! [all] we got the **** beat! [krs] i've got the **** beat! [all] you've got the **** beat [krs] i got the **** beat! [all] we got the **** beat [krs] beat that we got?? [all] the **** 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
