[krs-one] * echoing* you dope? want this title? Then you better come up or step off!
[freddie Yo check out, all jokes aside Let's get
Word! blastmaster in the house Hah, everybody for some reason be a gangsta You don't know nuttin about bein no
[freddie Worrrrrrrd up! check this out is freddie f-o-x-x-x And guess next
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, wan fi chat Every posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is Every wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat Every wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack They jump pon the mic, an' wan fi do it dat But ahh, now dis a krs, me nah dat When me open up to work, I put a on me back Then me, fly all around the world Krs, the artical, is not to be from patois*] with, ? with, or tampered with Don't a fuck if you wanna riff But when you say kris, already of kris My eyebrows lift and that ass I get (huh) As a matter of fact, I attack, Set back, your career, like a That broke his back, my is like a bat Your eye'll get black, you'll need an (rrrrruff!) I'm all that, come with your pack be prayin to the God of isaac So freddie foxxx, time to get tough [uh-huh] Just, get on the mic and get ruff,
foxxx] Soon as I flex, I'm about to rip up shop the return of the hip-hop master, freddie the foxxx (bo!) rappers that see me, even speak, just walk Cause I'm the maddest in new york (hah!) I see a rapper in the crowd that I like I wanna fight, so I drop the mic I'ma jump off the stage, bumrush your crowd to (suckers) wanna be pimps How I heard it said that a pimp'll his ass If his hoe won't, but freddie don't Cover your chest g, you better a bulletproof vest see Cause I'm about to leave this place a mess Open hearts on the as I explore Rappers that wanted to be more than number Number a hard spot; either you fight Or get shot, so this is I got (bo!) tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my razor blades And I aim to get paid! So who wanna step to this, don't come i'ma straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!) And when the cops to get me I'ma take a body, and bop ten cops with me I'm sick and tired of hearin rappers smack About who's nice, and whack, motherfuck that know my style, and my rep, every stage That I stepped on - I was the rapper they on But y'all rappers keep sleepin - when they plant Bombs in your house, wake you up and punch you In your motherfuckin mouth, knock wife out your sons to safety, cause they're just kids And I wanna em to face me And when get a little bigga I'ma mark them little niggaz, and put their On the trigger -- homicide, call the vice rapper and his family with no life Yeah you're mr. tough and, you're of stuff and And freddie caught you bluffin I got you in my torture and you scream Oh God damn, it's like _silence of the But I mangle em and eat em I take mc's to the war zone, and I defeat em It gets much worse, with verse As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts! Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes, You suckers my name! Aiyyo kris! I'm rhymin long enough (say ) Get on the mic and get ruff,
This is the year I go all out (why? ) Edutainment's what I'm all (and) I don't eat with the sauerkraut (cause) Because I don't eat pork the tail to the snout (well it) get on down, to the hip hip hop Before I start, peace to larock! (word) Now let me drop the that has action Cause many mc's don't believe rappin They're lost, crazy mixed-up in their This is not, hip-hop is meant to be (word up) I come unique, I can't be beat, hardcore For the kids, with a hundred-and-fifty on feet (kick it) I don't compete, I and delete ya Then critique ya, all mc's retreat, comes the t'cha suckers like smuckers Hittin on, sittin on, shittin on, on motherfuckers Yeah, I'm like the movie I hide inside your right hand man, when you you got me Bam! my head comes out your A mess of nastyness Chunks of bloody flesh, yes krs on the Specialize in rhyme style, you simply add water Evian, I pull the then Ring-ding-ding, Back in the days, I +south bronx+ The juice crew got stomped, lick two Pom! pom! it was magic's fault Always wanna diss somebody, he got put to a wack, when a sucker dj babbles on Soupin up to battle on song That's wrong, but in any event, I drop the In 1992 the it ain't plastic Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn like Credit card plastic, like elastic and respect is the tactic Bam! in your motherfuckin Krs in the I never liked to bitches and hoes anyway (fi-yah!)
[freddie Well you know I like hoes, cause I'm a But I don't the wack tracks, youknowhati'msayin? And for all your out there underestimate the militant mack, get the bo-zack You know what I (word) word!
You know Every wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat Every posse wan fi chat, but ya dey is wack posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, you know dem a wack Every posse wan fi chat, but ya dey is wack
[freddie Yes.. fresh.. for you suckers * echoes *
Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * echoes to *