The Kenny Parker Show

Boogie Down ProductionsBoogie Down Pro… 

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Boogie Down Productions

Boogie Down Productions was a hip hop group that was originally composed of KRS-One, D-Nice, and DJ Scott La Rock. DJ Scott La Rock was murdered on August 27, 1987, months after the release of BDP's debut album, Criminal Minded. The name of the group, Boogie Down, derives from a nickname for the South Bronx section of The Bronx, one of the five boroughs of New York City. The group pioneered the fusion of dancehall reggae and hip hop music and their debut LP Criminal Minded contained frank descriptions of life in the South Bronx of the late 1980s thus setting the stage for what would eventually become gangsta rap. more »

Year:

1990

5:29

91 Views

Playlists:

#4

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Indeed truly we are the mighty mighty BDP posse 
This is our fourth album and we're still not takin' no shorts 
Yeah, ha hah! 
On the wheels of steel is Kenny Parker 
As we say he can't get no darker 
All about action  not a fast talker 
All the whick whack sucker DJ's 
Gotta try much harder 
My man Willie Willie Willie D 
Taggin up BDP with a fat marker 
And this is what's on today's charter 
Ha hah hah 
All the ladies in the place throw your hands up in the air 
BDP rockin' without no fear 
So Kenny Parker if you know what time it is 
Throw the funky fresh beat in like this 

C'mon!

Ha hah 
Well it's me, down with BDP 
KRS-One rocks ANY party 
Rocks the beats, and the breaks 
Rock the socks off the frauds and the fakes 
The suckers shake, while I'm creatin' 
They get together and they start debatin'
How can we take him out one time? 
So they push up the best with the freshest rhyme 
I might go first, and he'll go second 
I'll wreck him, deck him, say to him, "Just checkin' the mic" 
Droppin' fresh styles I like 
So throw up your hands and drop your mic 
'Cause I'll go third, and he'll go fourth 
By the fifth you're dissed cause you lost 
Six is your beat down, your title is seven 
Takin' out your four man crew makes eleven 
By the twelfth well I'll go for self 
Rockin' New York like no one else 
You can check any rapper from seventy-eight 
A few have rocked their whole career straight 
Some had dope twelve inches, count em 
But not many crews had slammin' albums 
BDP rocks consistently

From criminal minded to nineteen-ninety
Why? Well that's my secret baby 
Here's a hint: the public pays me 
So you can call me a public servant 
Not a King but a teacher, I'll believe I earned it 
So I just walk, or ride my bike 
If I walk to a jam well I'll rock the mic 
Gimme a chance and I'll rock the house 
But don't let a sucker try to take me out 
'Cause male or female, I will strangle 
If it's a crew, they'll have to untangle 
Adidas, Nike's, arms, mics 
Turntables suckers in the wheel of my bike 
Step right up if that's what you like 
But watch your head cause it'll fly like a kite 
In the night at a height right for flight 
Way out of sight, you bite, I recite 
My style is bright, still you're sellin' out to white 
As your faggot DJ would say, "Well alright" 
I am your mentor 
Victory is mine, it's time you surrender 
Sucker! And just back up quickly 
Your style is sickly, but you persist to get me 
Or outwit me with the style that I created 
Years ago when you was doin' a dollar fifty show 
Oh, all of a sudden you don't know 
Or can't remember, can't recall, can't bring to mind 
That rhyme that place do not chase 
I run a marathon a race of rhymes in your face 
In case you bass I'll erase your whole rap 
Tell you right now I ain't tryin' to hear that 

I don't dress up to rap or keep a hairdo 
I only grab the mic and bust holes in a crew 
I deny your existence as artists 
You're puttin' out a record expectin' to chart 
But it's weak, but when you speak through the microphone 
You fail to realize nope you're not alone 
On the earth, the light comes forth as KRS 
Intelligence, force, and love manifest in the flesh 
I snatch the mic and shed light 
Behave, you're still a 20th century slave 
Headed for the grave in a wave 
So save the microscopic miniature small talk and walk 
And put a little pep in your step 
KRS-One will destroy any ignorant reputation 
In the nation, in creation 
Princes, Kings, Queens, or any occupation 
Like rappers with nuttin' to say 
I crush those idiots and throw em away 
'Cause no matter how fatter the wallet, I'd rather 
Gather together and splatter whatever 
Egotistic mystics, with macho poses 
If you ain't for black you're down for Guns 'n' Roses 
Yeah! C'mon! 
Throw your hands in the sky 
And wave em from side to side 
And if you're in this life just gettin by 
Somebody say, alright! (Alright!) Alright! (Alright!) 

DJ Kenny Parker takin' out these sucker DJ's 
My man Willie D, never in a daze, ha hah 
We got Symone in the house 
We got, D-Square in the house 
We got Ms. Melodie rockin' the sound set 
My man D-Nice, hit it!

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