Tellin' it like it is, right now D.J. Premier Is in the motherfuckin' house and Ya know what I'm But yo, yo Kris, run that shit Ya know what I'm That, that shit, my joint Run that motherfucker, it's right kid
(Do it, do, do, do it) that bass line, you want lyrics? We give ya lyrics, check it out now, one (Do it, do, do, do it)
When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy Gal, ya come slap them up When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy Ill will, slap up
MC's get ate, get like a pretzel And get dissed if they ever try to to They take a MC with loose lips Talk a lotta shit but sink no ships
Lyrics make bigger holes hollow tips another rapper body get stiff Just like in church, we pass the As I preach over his
Fuck it, kick the body right And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya" Got another to see Yo Kris, that ass certainly
If you're get off the pot Let the original rapper the spot You stand and jock, goin' is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to Kris
Chattin' foolishness, step along quick with that It's me rippin' this for self, where else ya I got more rhymes than all the Jamaicans in So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad
boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-pee I was rockin' when 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo Admit you on my tip for years and just can't seem to let go Go, go call mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quick I bet the minute you get home you'll get ass whipped
Crazy ill mad is what I give 'em Not a run of the mill 'em, I drill 'em, I got rhythm of my styles you can get with 'em Still um, will um, your crew come get so I can kill 'em
Well, I by myself but don't let it fool ya If I got beef my crew'll step to ya We don't play no games, I'll come to your rest Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, that was
A fad doesn't the bill, but mad skills will Don't let me have to kill you kid, God forbid Greed will lead your need to But your speed, speech
Your outreach is a breach of I teach For lyrical you're a leech If I was Spanish I'd say, "You lie a beech" Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow
Wow, for a you really looked hard But really a bitch, when you get it together Call me, my card the list, you lack breath control, mental behavior Lyrical talent, imagination and
I got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-Shirt I'll smash wanna-be ass in the deep dirt Black, you'll come up dizzy sayin', "How da he do dat?"
'Cause you're yappin' like you can't be If your name ain't Arrested Development, save your to ill, I got mad skills to fill Not a fake, I got more styles than got Tasty Cakes
Gotta be the Gee, don't try to test me You'll get jacked son, even if your is not Jesse Let's be up front I meet ya Peace, uh, I'm the teacher
When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy Gal, will ya come slap up When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy Gal, will ya come them up
Do it, do, do, do it Yo Bronx, South South Bronx South Bronx, South South yo, Brooklyn's in the house, lemme ya 'bout Staten Island What about Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it