[krs-one] * voice Think you dope? want title? Then you come step up or step off!
foxxx] Yo check this out, all jokes Let's get
Word! blastmaster in the house Hah, for some reason wanna be a gangsta You don't know about bein no gangsta
[freddie up! aiyyo check this out This is f-o-x-x-x And guess next
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi Every wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi Every posse wan fi chat, but ju dem is wack posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack They pon the mic, an' wan fi do it like dat But ahh, now dis a krs, me nah dat When me up to work, I put a cape on me back Then me, fly all the emcee world Krs, the artical, is not to be [*changes patois*] with, ? with, or tampered with Don't give a if you wanna riff But when you say kris, already derivative of My eyebrows lift and that ass I get (huh) As a matter of fact, I attack, Set back, your career, like a That his back, my tongue is like a bat eye'll get black, you'll need an icepack (rrrrruff!) I'm all that, with your whole 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,
[freddie Soon as I flex, I'm about to rip up shop It's the return of the hip-hop master, freddie the (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 fight, so when I drop the mic I'ma jump off the stage, bumrush your to whip (suckers) wanna be pimps How I heard it said that a pimp'll his ass If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx Cover your chest g, you better wear a vest see I'm about to leave this place a motherfuckin mess Open hearts on the as I explore Rappers that to be more than number four one's a hard spot; either you fight Or get shot, so is what I got (bo!) Three tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my blades And I aim to get paid! So who wanna step to this, come soft Cause straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!) And when the cops to get me I'ma take a dead body, and bop ten cops me I'm sick and tired of hearin rappers talk who's nice, and who's whack, motherfuck that They know my style, and my rep, stage That I stepped on - I was the rapper slept on But y'all rappers keep sleepin - cause they plant Bombs in your house, wake you up and punch you In your mouth, knock your wife out Take your sons to safety, they're just kids And I raise em to face me And when get a little bigga mark them little niggaz, and put their fingerprints On the trigger -- homicide, call the vice Another rapper and his with no life Yeah you're mr. tough and, you're of stuff and And freddie foxxx you bluffin I got you in my torture chamber and you Oh God damn, it's _silence of the lambs_ But I mangle em and eat em I take to the war zone, and there I defeat em It gets worse, with every verse As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts! Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes, You suckers my name! Aiyyo kris! I'm long enough (say what? ) Get on the mic and get ruff,
This is the that I go all out (why? ) Edutainment's I'm all about (and) I don't eat franks with the (cause) Because I don't eat pork from the to the snout (well it) get on down, to the hip hip hop I start, peace to scott larock! (word) Now let me drop the style has action Cause many mc's don't they're rappin They're lost, crazy mixed-up in their This is not, what is meant to be (word up) I unique, I can't be beat, hardcore street 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, here the t'cha Chewin suckers smuckers Hittin on, sittin on, shittin on, on motherfuckers Yeah, I'm like the movie I inside your right hand man, when you think you got me Bam! my head comes out chest A mess of nastyness Chunks of flesh, yes krs on the slaughter Specialize in instant style, you simply add water Evian, I the string then Ring-ding-ding, in the days, I wrote +south bronx+ The juice crew got stomped, two shot Pom! pom! really it was fault wanna diss somebody, he got put to a halt It's wack, a sucker dj babbles on Soupin up mc's to battle on That's wrong, but in any event, I the classic In the original it ain't plastic Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn acid Credit card plastic, stretch elastic and respect is the tactic Bam! in your face Krs in the I never listening to bitches and hoes anyway (fi-yah!)
[freddie Well you know I hoes, cause I'm a mack But I like the wack tracks, youknowhati'msayin? And for all your out there That underestimate the militant mack, get the You know I mean? (word) word!
You know posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat Every wan fi chat, but ya knows dey is wack Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, you dem a wack Every posse wan fi chat, but ya dey is wack
foxxx] Yes.. fresh.. for nineteen-ninety-two you * echoes *
Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * to fade *