Testo Mc's act like they don't know KRS-One

Mc's act like they don't know

Intro

Clap your hands everybody, if you got what it takes
Cos Im krs and Im on the mic, and premiers on the breaks

Verse 1

If you dont know me by now I doubt youll ever know me
I never won a grammy, I wont win a tony
But Im not the only mc keepin it real
When I grab the mic to smash a rapper, girls go illlll!
Check the time as I rhyme, its 1995
Whenever I arrive the party gets liver
Flow with the master rhymer, thats to leave behind
The video rapper, you know, the chart climber
Clapper, down goes another rapper
Onto another matter, punch up the data, blastmaster
Knowledge reigns supreme over nearly everybody
Call up krs, Im guaranteed to rip a party
Flat top, braids, bald heads or natty dread
There once was a story about a man named jed
But now jed is dead, all his kids instead
Want to kick rhymes off the top of they head
Word, what go around come around I figure
Now we got white kids callin themselves niggas
The tables turned as the crosses burned
Remember you must learn
About the styles I flip and how wild I get
I go on like a space age rocket ship
You could be a mack, a pimp, hustler or player
But make sure live you is a dope rhyme sayer

Verse 2

This is what you waited all year for
The hardcore, thats what krs is here for
Big up grand wizard theodore, gettin ill
If you see then ya saw Im in your grill with mad skill
Mcs can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines
Lets battle to see who headlines
Instead of flow for flow lets go show for show
Toe for toe, yo, you better act like you know
Too many mcs take that word emcee lightly
They cant move a crowd, not even slightly
It might be the fact that they express wackness
Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest
I flip a script a little bit, you ride the tip and shit
Too sick to get with it, admit you bit, your style is counterfeit
Now tone it down a bit
My title you will never get, Im too intelligent
Ill send your family my sentiments, my style is toxic
When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head, I knock it
It split quick from the lyric
Direct hit, perfect fit, you cant get with it

Verse 3

Some mcs dont like the krs but they must respect him
Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum
Slappin and selectin em, checkin em, disrespectin em
Just deckin em, deckin em, deck-in em
Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine?
I design rhyme and get mine all the time
Mcs standin on the sidelines, always dissin
When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin
I dont burn, I dont freeze, yet some mcs
Believe they could tangle with the likes of these
Cross your ts and dot your is whenever I arrive
Wide, magnified, live like the ocean tide
You dope, you lied, I reside like artefacts
On the wrong side of the tracks, electrified
Comin around the mountain, you run and hide
Hopin your defence mechanism can divert my heat-seeking lyricism
As I spark mad iszm
The 1996 lyrical styles what I give em