The only thing worse then your sense of humor is KRS-One.
I mean people will call this TRASH classic
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...
or even worse
Well, I'm drivin my car, cross country
With a hundred guns and about six G
Me drivin through a town, me see two cops
They lookin at me funny like they really want stop
Me just turn my head, and gwan on me way
Put hip-hop ina de tape and press play
Me get one block and me hear "Pull ov-ah"
The guns are in the trunk, with a thin cov-ah
They ax me for ID, driver's license prefer
Me ax them "Was I breakin any law, officer?"
They said "Oh yes, you passed county line
Niggers in these here parts now is a crime"
I said "Is that so?", and cocked back me nine
Bust two shots, ina the bwoy head top
His knees just-a-buckle, and his body-a-drop
Me put the car in drive, and me did not stop
When I get to New York, I'm gonna set up shop
Bwoy!
but hate on this?
On the capitol only key to survive is kill
If the elements don't murder you the ridaz will Fa real
And niggaz know I go hard to the fullest
Get involved and I got em playin dodgeball wit bullets
Yeah, I got the sawed off fully in the Sean John hoody
Get ****ed you play pus-sy
Ha! We hit em up while they lookin
And them body shots hooked
But the head shots took him
Damn! And if the red dot spot em then the hollow head got em
Knock his temp to his bottom jack!
Yeah! You see we grind from the bottom just to make it to the bottom
At the very bottom of the map
Lilweeziana piranas everywhere you at
You gotta wear a extra condom and a extra gat
Ya ***** gon get it fa actin like a man
And niggaz in Pakistan are packin like ya man
I back this hand ya man on command
In front of niggaz he cool wit dem boyz on fan
I'm on hot I adjust in different climates
Duckin the animal keep on runnin wit my primates
You ain't did it till you done it like in five states
Weezy hustle no blubber I put on weight
And in the drought I go on a diet and stretch more
Lose all that weight leave a nigga wit stretch marks
You don't even come up to a nigga chest pa' sub par
What the **** they play it in the club for
Real shit I'm duckin bombs from a drug war
No religion but the cops swear that I'm a drug lord
Father forgive em for they know not who they pushin Lord
Father forgive me if I have to send em to ya Lord
I'm just tryin dodge the shots they send to the God
They ridin up highway to heaven blvd. (**** em)
Damn! Them niggaz pussy and jive not even in a eye exam they ain't lookin for I
The A and the K will make ya face cook to the side
Now when you smilin everybody gotta look from the side
Cause when you wildin you ain't lookin you just lookin high
And when we hungry you look like pie
Sweet potato ass nigga you lemon merengue apple custard
Cherry jelly don't make me get the bisuit busta Yea!
What up Gizzle you my distant brotha
Real shit nigga same father different mother
I skip the frontin and stick to keepin it trill
You not know me fa nothin other I'm somethin other
Than people you feel I'm deeper for real I'm deeper than skillz
My speeches can kill Rest in peace
get that I get my career ended by Nelly BULLSHIT out of here