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
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)
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
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
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
[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
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...
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
[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)
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
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...
(Yo man, these people around here in '87 just slippin-dough, you know what I'm sayin? Boogie Down Productions not slippin-dough, so hold ya hands-you know what I'm sayin? (word) Yo! What's goin' on? Mr. Magic-you know what happened? He slipped on us-he die. Pumpin KISS FM, we rock. To my man DJ Red Alert- we chillin' (word). Yo man! Yo do, heard about, man, this shit about this kid-Wearin' the, ah, Jerry Curls, man. Word up! He was slippin'. Yo dough, word up, word up. He had a yellow coat on, but no description was given)
Now what you just heard, people, was a little kickin But let me tell you this while the clock is still tickin This is the warning, known as the caution: Do not attempt to dis cuz you'll soften Just like a pillow, or better yet a mattress You can't match this style or attack this While I'm telling you, write on schedule Fuck with K-R-S and I'll bury you Deep in the dirt, or sand with a shovel No fight, no scurry, or scuffle, just muffle Total domination on stage Kris is the name, 22 is the age Those who wanna battle, I know who you are You got a little girl, you drive a little car You come into the place with that look on your face Before you ran the mile, you lost the race So assume you're doomed when you step in the room I'll be the witch and you'll be the broom I'll ride you, guide you into the concrete I'll slide you to a funky beat So what do we have here? A sucka in fear I snatched your heart Put it way up on the chart At ten you're fucked At nine you suck At eight you're a sucker At seven-a mothafucka At six you're slapped At five you're just wacked At four you're lost At three, you're just soft At two you're an ass At one, you're a dick But before you slip, I'll whip Cuz homeboy, ya slippin'
(Yo get my slip on, I'm chillin on. A long time, ya see me slip on, crop D, and I'll slip on, everybody-I slip on. Sayin? I'll come back if I miss you, sayin?)
I understand that music calms the savage beast But keep in mind that I compose my music piece by piece First a bass, a snare A little cut over there I add my name K-R-S And the shit becomes fresh I ask Moe and ICU for their thoughts Layin' down a power play all the suckas are tought One again, the tactics of original arts We're gettin' payed to the end cuz we were down from the start We're known as Boogie Down Productions, ain't no B-boy stance Gauranteed to make ya dance, if you give us a chance We're goin' off and of course all ya suckas are lost You wanna hear a fresh rhyme? You've come to the source Because I'm the type of guy who's not put up on a pedestal Run my rhyme on time and on schedule One after another, another to the next Can't rhyme when you're tense, or your muscles won't flex Check your larynx It may get lower havin' sex Or may get higher When bustin' as a liar These are the things I teach so be tought To me you're kinda short, how many battles have you fought? If you come up with a number, notebook, or list It just doesn't matter, you can still get dissed I'm bringin' back that ol' New York rap That gets you jacked while you're hands still clap It's funny Just dissin' you I can make money But noone's tippin' My message is simple: Ya' slippin!
(They slippin'-dough-1987-they spippin', but we goin' all the way to the top man (word)-you know what I'm sayin? To my brother KRS-1, you're large, I'm sayin, large-everytime, man, large. They're slippin')
E-N-O, S-R-K When you go through other albums, you're sure to say Goddam! They all seem to sound alike Till you hear the crew standin' over in the light Showing, glowing, on the top growing The lyrics keep flowing and flowing and just flowing Just like a river, or better yet a stream I'm proud to be down with the winning team So don't ever in your life even think about an arguement Cuz you'll get walked on like carpet We'll pick you up, and dust you off Stamp BDP on you're head and you're off But you won't even change that to say instead I'm down cuz I got a BDP on my head So just before you inherit that ass kicking I suggest you wake right up cuz ya slippin'
(Yo! They slippin'-dough, they slippin'-dough, they slippin'-word up, I don't care no more, man, I'm commin' out of the shell-dough, they slippin' man. B-boy Records, Magic, yo all the time they slippin-ya know what I'm saying? This other kid-I don't know what his name is, but you know what time it is. (WORD UP!) He's slippin' too (everybody). Slippin', and everytime he do somethin', he's slippin'. Slippin'.)
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
{*30 seconds in: DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*}
Cocaine business controls America Ganja business controls America KRS-One come to start some hysteria Illegal business controls America
[KRS-One] One afternoon around eleven o'clock It was freezin cold, he was standing on the block Sellin cheeba, nick's and dimes Sayin a rhyme just to pass the time The cops passed by, but he stayed calm Cause the leather trench coat was keepin him warm But this time they walked by real slowly He thought to himself, 'They look like they know me' They drove away, but he didn't stay He jumped in the cab and he paid his tab But guess who he saw when he hit the block It was the same cop car, the same two cops They jumped out quick, they pulled a gun They said, 'Don't try to fight and don't try to run Cooperate and we will be your friend Non-cooperation will be your end' He jumped in the car, and while they rode they ran down the list of things he owed They said, 'You owe us some money, you owe us some product Cause you could be right in the river tied up' He thought for a second and he said, 'What is this? You want me to pay you to stay in business?' They said, 'That's right, or you go to prison cause nobody out there is really gonna listen to a hood,' so he said, 'Good! I'll pay you off for the whole neighborhood' Because
Cocaine business controls America Ganja business controls America KRS-One come to start some hysteria Illegal business controls America
{*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*}
[KRS-One] A guy named Jack, is sellin crack The community, doesn't want him back He sells at work, he sells in schools He's not stupid, the cops are the fools Cause everyone else seems to go to jail But when it comes to Jack, the cops just fail They can't arrest him, they cannot stop him Cause even in jail the bail unlocks him So here is the deal, and here is the facts If you ever wonder why they can't stop crack The police department, is like a crew It does whatever they want to do In society you have illegal and legal We need both, to make things equal So legal is tobacco, illegal is speed Legal is aspirin, illegal is weed Crack is illegal, cause they cannot stop ya But cocaine is legal if it's owned by a doctor Everything you do in private is illegal Everything's legal if the government can see you Don't get me wrong, America is great place to live But listen to the knowledge I give
Cocaine business controls America Ganja business controls America KRS-One come to start some hysteria Illegal business controls America
{*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Illegal business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Illegal business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Illegal business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} KRS-One come to start some hysteria {*DJ scratches 'What what what what, what what what what, What can we get for 63 cents?'*}
Cocaine business controls America Ganja business controls America KRS-One come to start some hysteria Illegal business controls America
{*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Yeah, illegal business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Yeah, KRS-One come to start some hysteria {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Yeah, BDP takin over America {*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Ganja business controls America
{*DJ scratches 'What can we get for 63 cents?'*} Cocaine, sensai Aspirin, coffee Morphine, sugar Tobacco, got to go
{*DJ scratches 'What what what what, what can we get..'*} Illegal business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What what, what can we get..'*} Yeahhhhh, ganja business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What what what what what what, what can we get for 63 cents?'*} Yeahhhhh, cocaine business controls America {*DJ scratches 'What what what what..'*} Illegal business controls America
[KRS-One] _By All Means Necessary_ Written, produced, directed, by Blastmaster KRS-One Mixed, by DJ Doc And now.. it's TIME.. to GET {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} BDP is in full and total effect I'm gonna shout out a couple of names We're gonna do it like this DJ Doc.. Manager Moe.. Ms. Melodie.. I.C.U., McBoo {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} D-Nice.. Scott LaRock.. KRS-One, I think that's me And you know what? I'm down with BDP {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} So right about this time you should throw your hands up in the air How many people got Nike's on? If you got your Nike's on, put your feet up in the air If you don't got Nike's on I think you need to keep your feet down Cause the party is live {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} and we're in total stereo, yaknowhatI'msayin?
So all the suckers out there that wanna test It's time to get {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} And at this point, we gettin a little stupid I'd like to say, DJ Doc is in the back chillin out On the 48-track board without a doubt Break it down Doc, like this! {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} I'd like to give a shout out to who? Big Daddy Kane Heavy D, and Eric B. Melody, D-Square {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} So just throw your hands in the air Just throw your hands in the air KRS-One is here without a care And I don't have NO fears homeboy So all the suckers out there that wanna test BDP It's time to get {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} Now, here's what we do on the 48-track board We look around for the best possible break And once we find it, we just BREAK.. .. or, we just BREAK {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} There's two ways to do this, you see what I'm sayin? If you feel the board, you feel around We got tracks one to track 48 We find track seven, and break it down! {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} Okay.. this album has been funded by the Blastmaster KRS-One Fund Ha ha ha ha ha ha hah! You know what? We're gettin {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} Okay, we gon' play a little game, break it down Doc Like this, or like THIS {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!}
You know what? I used to be a graffiti artist I used to write KRS-One all over the place All up in Soundview, in Brooklyn Then when the cops come for you, ha ha hah You just get {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!} And another thing: me and my crew, we made hit records all over the place but we left B-Boy Records And you know what happened after that point? Ha hah, they just got {NERRRRRRRR-VOUS!}
