(KRS-One)
Wake up your mind black people, it's ill
Superior people use superior skill
We can defeat any congressional bill at will
The hip-hop nation will fulfill all prophecy
In society with inner city philosophy
The hip-hop in me must come out
Or die to lock in me, no doubt
Executed properly
I begin to shout out, splat out approximately
Three single syllable words per second
Like I am God, you are God, we are God
Forget it
Time to sell it in a lyrical battle
I'll never jet it like a shot to ya head
I'm embedded in your mind
With constant conscience lyrical rhyme
At the end of time, I'll be in my prime
Re-designin', rhymin'
Like an oratorical Shaman
I look still but I'm climbin
Newsflash here's the latest findin
Ya whole environment created in ya
Mind and in ya heart hip-hop displays art
The highest level of mental expression
Play your part

I'm the intelligent wise on the mic
Everybody knows

(KRS-One)
All these motherfuckers tryin to be large
With their two car garage
Dressing like El DeBarge
It's played out, fadin out, over
Talk to ya broker, time to
Give back that Range Rover, soldier!
I told ya woe onto the hip-hop perpetrator
Posin' like a neighbour stealin all ya flavor
Danger danger ya better rearrange ya thinkin
Check what you eatin and drinkin
Ya breath is stinkin
With the stench of a snitch with information
Leakin
Linkin up with the enemies of Kris speakin
But I'm already in 1999
Feelin fine while most MCs will be
Out of sight and outta mind
Rewind cos I got a little bit of time
Negativity will be wiped out
By paint after turpentine
I find my rhymes combines mobility
Creativity
Positivity, productivity, sensibility
To a wide vicinity, engulfin your facility
Oh silly me
You killin me I begin to see your stupidity
I rock way hard you can't get wit me
Or go wit me or flow wit me
Frankly, this is grown people poetry
Forget your little off-the head rhyme
It's way past your bedtime
For the tenth time forget tryin to get mine
I went from the park with my arc in the dark
A simple spark
The little Park sparked now I'm in ya heart
Everytime you think I'm comin one way
I come another way
If you ain't got no fly rhymes, say today
Run away, run away, run awaylittle boy
Like the TAT crew I terrorize all toys
Noise is what I hear
When you shout your rhyme into the atmosphere
The blast master's here! Hook

(KRS-One) now which motherfucker wants
Their title tooken, defended
I see my schedule it's open-ended
I can move somethin around like
Ya booty ass sound, beginner
What happened? You couldn't be an
Apollo Amateur Night winner?
Now the teacher you reach for
Don't you know I am that lyrical gate keeper
You'll get ran like sneaker
No peep tha, no peep mine
No peep this hard style
That keeps the party floatin like a fetus
Meanwhile you hold your head
You can't belive this godchild
Presented recommend ya and because
You're not fertile
Or fertile pronounced "fertil"
Your reflex's slow like a turtle
Yeah my picture you circle
From papers and journals
Without rehearsal, my dispersal is the worst
A verse, I burst Swa into a million children
In Tiananmen buildings
Willing and start illing
Comin thru the ceiling
Enough of this rhetoric let's start building

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): ERIC BARRIER, LAWRENCE KRSONE PARKER, WILLIAM GRIFFIN