Intro
The number one set and sound...live! ghetto music. produced by
Krs-one.
Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye
Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye
Come in!
Verse 1
Many have claimed to attain levels in rhymin
But when I listen to em I see theyre only lyin
Theyre tryin, but after some years if you aint got it
Lay it down, put it down, find a way to try and stop it
Or change it, rearrange it, be a producer
Dont touch the microphone because youll always be the loser
And laughed at, smirked on, you dont belong
With those that perform their song on and on
And on and on and on, yo, lets get specific
This style is for the gifted, poetically uplifted
I speak to you, not at you to attack you
Maybe when Im through with this rhyme Ill 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 Im in the street, you hear my voice, you know its me
Kr...nope! Im not ready to say my name yet
Many say they teach, but this style they havent attained yet
Widdy-bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!
Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!
Bye bye bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!
Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye
Verse 2
Run it, son, plumb it you bum
Dont you know that its krs-one
That comes to sing the styles that aint 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
Id like to stack up all the hits that Ive 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, youre out of touch
Im out of time, heres another rhyme
(the black mans in effect. jeeeeeeesus! oh gosh, dude. oh gosh. oh
Yes, dude. yes)
(whats the name of that crew? b.d.p)
(say what? Im not down with the juice crew)
