See, this is what I'm sayin' and
I know you don't see this
Wack, underpriveledged MCs think
television and they rocka
"Taxi," and I ain't Lotka
I break an MC off proper,
But here you stand, tryin' to get yours,
You probably can't spell "Boogie
I play for jeeps, I play for keeps,
I play for streets, believe me
Put down the microphone and
I'm slammin' again, no win,
I'm wild like a savage, kickin' asses
your style's with trash's
Stay out of my classes, PUNK
Stay out of my classes - yo
Twinkle, twinkle to the little rap star
I got all type of MC tongue in a pickle jar
*fuck* the rest of the market!
'Cause I spark it, styles I loan shark it
Then break your legs if you try to chart it
Doesn't take a lot to rock a record,
Some MCs can't rock for five minutes
Sorry, that's not the way
I rip up lyrical crews and MCs often
You probably don't know this:
And I also give abortions
I'll do a number to your body structure
And I'm that hungry motherfucker!
You don't want to be on the menu!
I'll end you, twist you up and bend you
Pick up the microphone and
No, we're never sad because
That's why dem challenge me,
jah man you know dem challenge trouble
And you don't want no trouble
'Cause Blastmaster KRS is flashin' lyrics on the double
me cominadance, now me a sing
but you don't hear vowel one
Any DJ they want my title filled,
now understand you get fucked up
This ain't no game upon the mic
Me bring the noise to you like Chuck