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Yeah.. ahh back to that old shit!

For all you FAKE ass teachers out there

Aiyyo Kris.. break this shit up!

[KRS One]

The type of lyrical terrorism I present

Educates people at the same time pays my rent

You`ve been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters

When the suckers stepped up I had to use the drastic measures

I know you want to step to me kid!

But you`re thinkin "Damn Kris is kinda big!"

Plus he rolls wit a crew that don`t care

And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year

From your eye drops a tear

I don`t play that shit, I play that hit

Your whole gangsta image is not legit

You heard _Criminal Minded_, and bit the whole shit

Now if I punch you in your face I`d be wrong

Don`t even think about battling with a song

You`ll be gone, your career ain`t strong enough to call my bluff

You ain`t rough, you ain`t tough, you`ll be handcuffed

With your ribcage crushed

Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks

You know my FUCKIN name

Blastmaster KRS is thinkin LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4X)

[KRS-One]

They are in there, like you`ll soon be in prison

(You await and this is faggot, your ass you`ll be given)

Who you kiddin? You`re only tryin to rock a party

You ain`t really down to shoot nobody

So why you frontin? Sayin from the cops you be runnin

In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning

You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl

Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named Lionel

In jail you ain`t got respect

You a fairy, I`ll be takin your commisary

And the picture of your sister, mister

As seamy as Pee-Wee Herman, I ain`t trying to diss her

This ain`t no bullshit game and I ain`t changed

I`m just thinkin LONG range

People died so I can rhyme..

you think I`m gonna grab the mic and waste my nation`s time?

Step up with that weak shit

You`re psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick

Plus you`re on my dick

Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain`t correct

You know my FUCKIN name!

Blastmaster KRS is thinking LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (*repeats*)

KRS.. Kenny Parker.. Willie D.. from Long Island

Heather B.. Ska-Danks..

D-Square.. Sidney Mills..

Ha-ohhhh.. go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!

Go Bronx! (Go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!)

The Bronx! Yell Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx, ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

Yeah.. ahh back to that old shit!

For all you FAKE ass teachers out there

Aiyyo Kris.. break this shit up!

[KRS One]

The type of lyrical terrorism I present

Educates people at the same time pays my rent

You`ve been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters

When the suckers stepped up I had to use the drastic measures

I know you want to step to me kid!

But you`re thinkin "Damn Kris is kinda big!"

Plus he rolls wit a crew that don`t care

And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year

From your eye drops a tear

I don`t play that shit, I play that hit

Your whole gangsta image is not legit

You heard _Criminal Minded_, and bit the whole shit

Now if I punch you in your face I`d be wrong

Don`t even think about battling with a song

You`ll be gone, your career ain`t strong enough to call my bluff

You ain`t rough, you ain`t tough, you`ll be handcuffed

With your ribcage crushed

Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks

You know my FUCKIN name

Blastmaster KRS is thinkin LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4X)

[KRS-One]

They are in there, like you`ll soon be in prison

(You await and this is faggot, your ass you`ll be given)

Who you kiddin? You`re only tryin to rock a party

You ain`t really down to shoot nobody

So why you frontin? Sayin from the cops you be runnin

In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning

You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl

Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named Lionel

In jail you ain`t got respect

You a fairy, I`ll be takin your commisary

And the picture of your sister, mister

As seamy as Pee-Wee Herman, I ain`t trying to diss her

This ain`t no bullshit game and I ain`t changed

I`m just thinkin LONG range

People died so I can rhyme..

you think I`m gonna grab the mic and waste my nation`s time?

Step up with that weak shit

You`re psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick

Plus you`re on my dick

Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain`t correct

You know my FUCKIN name!

Blastmaster KRS is thinking LONG range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (*repeats*)

KRS.. Kenny Parker.. Willie D.. from Long Island

Heather B.. Ska-Danks..

D-Square.. Sidney Mills..

Ha-ohhhh.. go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!

Go Bronx! (Go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!)

The Bronx! Yell Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx, ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

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