Verse 1
D.J. Doc you know he`s down with us
D-Square, he`s down with us
Keyboard Money Mike, is down with us
I.C.U., you know he`s down with us
D-Nice and McBoo, they`re down with us
Ms. Melodie, she`s down with us
Just-Ice and DMX, they`re down with us
My manager Moe, he`s down with us
Castle-D boy, he`s down with us
D.J. Red Alert, he`s down with us
Robocop boy, he`s down with us
Makin` funky music is a must
I`m number one.
People still takin` rappin` for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
when I get challenged by a million MCs
I try to tell them, We`re all in this together!
My album was raw because no-one would ever
think like I think and do what I do
I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue
What do you think makes up a KRS?
Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking?
Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
causing me to take long trips
I`m the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin` off-beat with a smile
or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to
BDP Posse so I love to
step in the jam and slam
I`m not Superman, because anybody can
or should be able to rock off turntables
Grab the mic, plug it in and begin
But here`s where the problem starts, no heart
Because of that a lot of groups fell apart
Rap is still an art, and no-one`s from the Old School
cuz Rap is still a brand-new tool
I say no-one`s from the Old School cuz Rap on a whole
isn`t even twenty years old
Fifty years down the line, you can start this
cuz we`ll be the Old School artists
And even in that time, I`ll say a rhyme
A brand-new style, ruthless and wild
Runnin` around spendin` money, havin` fun
cuz even then, I`m still number one.
Verse 2
Blastmaster KRS-One of course
comes to express with style the lost
ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present
Knock, knock, who is it?
A brand-new style, hup, time to change
People talk about me when they see me on stage
Live in action, guaranteed raw
I hang with the rich and I work for the poor
Now tomorrow you can say you saw
KRS-One stompin` once more
I play by ear, I love to steer
the Alfa Romeo from here to there
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
cuz I`m not stupid, I don`t drink and drive
I`m not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin` because of my vocals
You know what you need to learn?
Old School artists don`t always burn
You`re just another rapper who`s had his turn
Now it`s my turn, and I am concerned
about idiots posing as kings
What are we here to rule?
I thought we were supposed to sing
And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach
Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak
KRS-One is something like a total renegade
except I don`t steal, I rhyme to get paid
Airplanes flyin`, overseas people dyin`
Politicians lyin`, I`m tryin`
not to escape, but hit the problem head-on
by bringin` out the truth in a song
So BDP, short for Boogie Down Productions
made a little noise cuz the crew was sayin` somethin`
People have the nerve to take me for a gangster
An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster
Doin` petty crimes, goin` straight to penitentiary
But in a scale of crime that`s really elementary
This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence
why my last jam was so violent
It`s simple: BDP will teach reality
No beatin` around the bush, straight up, just like The P Is Free
So now you know, a poet`s job is never done
But I`m never overworked, cuz I`m still number one.
