Many have claimed to attain levels in rhymin' But when I listen to 'em I see they're only lyin' They're tryin', but after some years if you ain't got it Lay it down, put it down, find a way to try and stop it Or change it, rearrange it, be a producer Don't touch the microphone because you'll always be the loser And laughed at, smirked on, you don't belong With those that perform their song on and on And on and on and on, yo, let's get specific This style is for the gifted, poetically uplifted I speak to you, not at you to attack you Maybe when I'm through with this rhyme I'll get a statue So now I ax you or tell you people literally When it comes to rockin' funky lyrics few are better than me Down with BDP, endlessly recitin' poetry Any time I'm in the street, you hear my voice, you know it's me KR...nope! I'm not ready to say my name yet Many say they teach, but this style they haven't attained yet
Run it, son, plumb it you bum Don't you know that it's KRS-One That comes to sing the styles that ain't sung I rocked the party, but oh! Gotta run Cos only the suckers want a chance at that To see if KRS-One is really all that Instead of a rap I jap-slap all of 'em back Because the teacher that you see is not wack I'd like to stack up all the hits that I've made Three albums, a triple-layer cake And throw it in your face you waste Pick up the pace and taste a poet from the black race While I whip you whine, you're out of touch I'm out of time, here's another rhyme
(The black man's in effect. Jeeeeeeesus! Oh gosh, dude. Oh gosh.Oh yes, dude. Yes)
Many have claimed to attain levels in rhymin' But when I listen to 'em I see they're only lyin' They're tryin', but after some years if you ain't got it Lay it down, put it down, find a way to try and stop it Or change it, rearrange it, be a producer Don't touch the microphone because you'll always be the loser And laughed at, smirked on, you don't belong With those that perform their song on and on And on and on and on, yo, let's get specific This style is for the gifted, poetically uplifted I speak to you, not at you to attack you Maybe when I'm through with this rhyme I'll get a statue So now I ax you or tell you people literally When it comes to rockin' funky lyrics few are better than me Down with BDP, endlessly recitin' poetry Any time I'm in the street, you hear my voice, you know it's me KR...nope! I'm not ready to say my name yet Many say they teach, but this style they haven't attained yet
Run it, son, plumb it you bum Don't you know that it's KRS-One That comes to sing the styles that ain't sung I rocked the party, but oh! Gotta run Cos only the suckers want a chance at that To see if KRS-One is really all that Instead of a rap I jap-slap all of 'em back Because the teacher that you see is not wack I'd like to stack up all the hits that I've made Three albums, a triple-layer cake And throw it in your face you waste Pick up the pace and taste a poet from the black race While I whip you whine, you're out of touch I'm out of time, here's another rhyme
(The black man's in effect. Jeeeeeeesus! Oh gosh, dude. Oh gosh.Oh yes, dude. Yes)
