So, a philosopher? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes I very deeply, I think very deeply, I think very deeply I think, I think, I think very deeply, I think, I think deeply
begin, what, where, why, or when Will all be explained like to a game See I'm not insane, in fact, I'm of rational When I be asking you, "Who is dramatical?" This one or one, the white one or the black one the punk, and I'll jump up to attack one KRS-One is just the guy to a crew up to your face and dis you
Everyone saw me on the album cover Holding a pistol far from a lover my brother, S C O T T I just laughed, no one can defeat me This is number two, 'My Philosophy' Number one, was 'Poetry' you it's me This is my philosophy, artists got to learn I'm not flammable, I burn
So please stop burnin', and learn to earn 'Cause just what KR collects See, what do you expect when you like a soft punk You down the street and get jumped You got to style, and learn to be original And gonna wanna dis you Like me, we up for the South Bronx And every sucka mc had a
You think we care? I that they are on the tip My posse from the is thick and we're real live, we walk correctly A lot of suckas would to forget me but they can't like a champ, I have got a record of knocking out The frauds in a on the mic, I believe that you should get loose I haven't come to tell you I got I produce, create, innovate on a higher level I'll be back, but for now seckle
play the nine and you play the target You all know my name so I guess just start it Or should I say, start this, I am an Of new concepts at hardest Yo, I'm a teacher, the Scott is a scholar It ain't money 'cause we all make dollars That's why I walk with my up When I hear rhymes I get fed up
Rap is a set-up, a lot of games A lot of suckas with colorful I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm Huh, but all just wick-wick-wack I'm not white or red or I'm brown from the Down Productions, of course our be thumpin' Others say they're bad, but they're
Let me tell you now about hip hop About D-Nice, Melodie, and La Rock I'll get a pen, a pencil, a what I write is for the average New Yorker Some mc's be and talkin' Tryin' to show how black people are But I don't this way to portray Or reinforce of today
all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon Talk broken and drug sellin' See I'm tellin', and teaching facts The way some act in rap is of wack And it creativity and intelligence But don't care 'cause the company is sellin' it my philosophy, on the industry Don't bother me, or even wish that we'd
Soften, dilute, or all the lyrics 'Cause it's about time one of y'all it And hear it first-hand from the brown man A vegetarian, no or ham Or or Turkey or hamburger 'Cause to me that's self-murder Let us get back to we call hip hop And what it meant to DJ Scott La
How mc's must get dissed Before somebody says, don't with This is just one style, out of Like a piggy bank, is one penny My brother's is Kenny, that's, Kenny Parker My other I.C.U. is much darker Boogie Down Productions is up of teachers The lecture is from the mic into the speaker
Who gets weaker? The king or the It's not about a salary all about reality Teachers teach and do the good Kings rule and most are never understood If you were to rule or govern a industry All inside this room now would be in misery No one would get along nor a song 'Cause be singing for the king, am I wrong?
So yo, what's up, me again La Rock, KRS, BDP again Many had the nerve To think that we end the trend criminal minded, an album which is only ten Funky, funky, funky, funky, hit records No than four minutes and some seconds
The competition checks and checks and keeps They take the album, take it home, and sweatin' Why? it's simple, to them it's kind of vital To KRS-One's title To them I'm like an idol, type of entity In everybody's rhyme they wanna me? Or rather mention us, me or Scott La But can get bust get robbed, get dropped
I play around nor do I f around And you can tell by the that are left around When some jumps up to get beat down Broken down to his last compound See how it sounds? A little A lot of mc's like to use the dramatical for '88, you suckas