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call paradise

Fools run up, but they've never seen the last
Spread your last lyrics get broken like glass
Can he pass or does he posses the will
rocked only when they're fitted
Lyrics get dropped only when they're lifted
So swing time is one up, the vo-chords run amuck
Whatup?  Whatup?  I got mine
lyrics get you over leave you sadly mistaken
When lyricist are brought to the rude awakening
That just cause your flavor is phat 
Doesn't mean your Tasters
Lee
Smooth be	, my rhymes get better with time
I should get an endorsement for creating fresh lines
And as I grow older, lyrics get hyper
Cause I'm
to the bank
And if I ever busta cap, it won't be no blank
So you can thank, or you can think
Singin' these lyrics might get you in the clink
I rock a beat like
the DJ starts to spin.
I look to the left, then to my right, my man kicks the beats, we start to recite.
DooDooraffic lyrics get the crowd into hysterics.
quit, Goldie has got to be the real sure shit
One, two and you don't quit, KRS-One and yes we do it like this

Buckle up your seatbelt we about to get
precise, like Benihanas, when I come to bring the dramas
Styles so swift, that you can't peep the God
As your lyrics get buried, six feet deep, in my
can't peep the God 
as your lyrics get buried, six feet deep in my backyard 
I laugh hard, while your mental I run through mazes 
Dark stages of terror
I'm first to set it 
My lyrics get the U.S. Open without playing tennis 

Vindictive my voice pitch is beyond John Blaze 
I'm John Cremation, you
slapped this foolish brat
Come on swing me boys
Swing it brother swing

[9th Prince over Chorus]
Word up, let's take 'em to war, son
Show 'em how it should
quit, Goldie has got to be the real sure shit
One, two and you don't quit, KRS-One and yes we do it like this

Buckle up your seatbelt we about to get
Word up, it's just a little somethin' to tide you over
Word up, the KRS style album comin' soon, KRS-One
All in the room, we gonna bounce these cats
Chuggin' around 50, mix the Lou then cheers to slow
Muthafuckas who never loved us simply cause they feared the flow
Spit lyrics to get vicious rippers
can't peep the God 
as your lyrics get buried, six feet deep in my backyard 
I laugh hard, while your mental I run through mazes 
Dark stages of terror
I'm the calm
And I'm not the bomb
And if you want to listen
To these wack ass lyrics
Go get them shits from Flash
You want at ohhla.com
Man, there ain't
over, don't come back
And if you're takin, then I know you must be givin
Cause if you love it, you better live it

La-la-la-la-la (love it)
La-la-la-la-la
get they microphones snatched like Lee patches
So YOU GO! To every wack muthafucka that you know (Scram)
My lyrics they get up in your jeans like
[Phone Operator's Voice...]

[Intro]
Unruly
Overdose, over load
Strict Flow Cats
412 set to explode
It's just a simple equation
y'all want it, we
you into ninety-six
No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics

De automatic, get de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic,
attention, people listen 

It's verbal ascension, like Maxwell many dimensions 

Flood over tracks, well, mics in critical condition 

Killin ya Maxell,
it's money over bitches, is it that hard to choose?
Give these fuck niggas some fame
9 times out of 10 they wouldn't even sustain
You can tear they ass

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