Lyrics:
D-nice, the beat box
I only wear Nike's, not Adidas or Reeboks
Many people know me, yet I'm known by few
My name is KRS-One, son
Not two or three
will not show us the Grail, we shall take your
castle by force!
GUARD: You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your
bottoms, sons
this mic from this fool see, make him run it
Five-foot invasion son, you can't run from it
Yo Reggie Noble
Blaoowww, yo Phife diggy!
What up?
Yo
Yo this is the Wreck League
We 'bout to wreck things in the nine-five
AIYYO'! We gotta set this off!
We gotta set this off, Wreck League, bring it
a thang/
Livin by the code cause this game's not a game- I maintain/
Put my heart on tha track, words can't express
Let you feel the pain, turn lyrics into
along on tour
Just to have a good time
Or paying Calamity Jane five-thousand
Dollars to be heckled
By twenty thousand macho boys in Argentina
Or asking my
see they shoes flappin'
Huh! Coolin' while I'm rappin'
(Boof baf) Another son gonna die
(Boof baf) If a boy just come try
(Boof baf) Another son
[ KM.G ]
Yo, this is somethin new by notorious-ass Above the Law
In the motherfuckin place
The Illustrator KM.G
Yo 187, you gotta let em know what's
Flashing like a Japan tourist, we command pure hits
While you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics
My fam submits to pray, 5 times a day
this mic from this fool see, make him run it
Five-foot invasion son, you can't run from it
Yo Reggie Noble
Blaoowww, yo Phife diggy!
What up?
Yo
You your daddy's son, yo, first I hear the beat
I-I get- trap-a-holics mixtape
I'm a real big baller cause I-
Like a light show making big money
And I'll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield
So bring your grip or you can think twice
'Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice
I'm
Coming at you with the truth
Soldiers of Christ coming at ya
Yo, Check out these Christian lyrics that I'm about to bust
I got the skills to kick
N-to-the-E-to-the-R-V-E
Bet you ain't heard lyrics as
Slick as this like
Okay, let me hit 'em with another one
I'm killin' it for fun
And when I'm finished, kill another
ones
Shook ones he ain't a crook, son
He just a shook one, shook one
For every rhyme I write
It's twenty-five to life
To all my peoples in the Bridge
My art sharp, shoot your posse apart
Nigga take you on one by one, gun by gun
Son by son, done by done
Whoever come murder fest, one of the best
schools
Dyin to get busy, because I knew I had the tools
Then I got the heart and went by the set
I said, "Yo, I wanna rock the set" "Yeah no sweat"
Kickin
Still Lex knows
Gasoline jumper on with the most fly livest Gortex made in Mexico
Bricks Fifteen Five
Celine Dion ties
Two Thousand dollar bubble
True York
Yeah
Uh huh
Where NY at
Vibe with me
Yerr
Here's a little story bout a shorty with dreams
By the name of Cory from the borough
Spurting, Spiritual, Lyrics
Like the Holy Koran
N****s get Shook Like 5-0
My 4-5 gun is next to me when we ride
Plus Survival
Money Making plans
Pistol
chest up, felt forsaken by the Father
Wounded rebel (oooh) in Jerusalem
Gettin picked on, and whipped by the goons of the Devil
Black man, 5 foot 9, see
better than great, heh heh
Uh in fact, I might just be top five
All-time, or at least top ten, well
Maybe nine minus five, divided by two
Minus the amount
tých najmladších som tu čo?
Som tu best, Som tu best
Odomňa nikdy nečakaj poklеs
To som dobre povedal
Nikdy by som v tracku neklamal
Hrám sa s tým
the day they stole our smile, so we clothe our teeth in gold
and we frontin, from nigga to kid, to Son of God
It's wild dependin on labels for man woman
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