**** beat

[krs] i got a **** beat?
[all] you got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat..
[all] we got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat..
[all] you got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat !!
[all] we got a **** beat!!
My name is at the top of all of those that mix
Im turnin poetry into cash for eighty-seven
Some did it got paid, some jams were never played
But i am just a poet who watched the whole parade
Go by, and why?　cause they wasnt fly
Others claim to be fresh, but theyre not krs
I cannot walk around the street, with my head in the clouds
Either runnin on my gear, or havin colors too loud
Everything must coincide with the way i feel
And by the way, its scott larock on the wheels of steel
So i take one step, to adjust the mic
I get around the whole city so i do wear nike
I like a funky beat, a studio like unique
I write the crazy fresh lyrics and i dont eat meat
You can look me up and down, and my dj too
Because we make up the boogie down productions crew
Takin out mcs - on the 1, 2, 3
No matter who they claim to be in society
Because we know their games, we have pulled their file
If they need a different style we can get wild
Hes i.c.u., hes out to kill
Im krs, and we get ill
Dj scott larock got his own beat
The extravagant life, is what we seek
I will tell you like this, cause i know for a fact
I will live a long life, and i dont smoke crack
Captivatin the crowd, seven days a week
You know what they told me to say?　i got the **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat
[all] you got a **** beat
[krs] i got the **** beat
[all] we got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat?
[all] you got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat!!
[all] we got the **** beat!!
For me to say again another verse of my rhyme
Means what you heard before mustve blew up your mind
So now its time, to find, poetry like mine
Do not waste all your time because im one-of-a-kind
Pullin out, easy goin cause the money be flowin
64 ', brown eyes, and im always showin
Stupid mcs on the mic the way it posed to be done
They study rhymes all week, but i be rhymin for fun
When they lose they get upset, always pullin a gun
But they will snap out of that, because im krs-one
Not two, not three, but o-n-e
Get it right the first time i wont repeat this rhyme
If you think that you can burn me with your amateur ways
Keep in mind that i been out there, from back in the days
I dont braaaaaaaaag, about the people i know
Because theyre still bluffin, theyre not givin me nothin
I can walk around the city with the rhymes i flaunt
Cause no matter how you front theyre still the ones you want
See, i am funky fresh and poetry is my opinion
Takin out you suckers while the scott larock is spinnin!
.. *guitar interlude* ..
My name is krs-one, im still kinda young
I dont wear adidas cause my name aint run
Got nikes on my feet, and to be complete
I can rock an americanor reggae beat
Got rhymes for 70s, 80s, and 90s
Not bein conceited but it wont pay to try me
Out to any feud, any battle, any reason
Make the rhymes up every season this style im just teasin
Pick up the pace, homeboy, pick up the pace
Youre way behind schedule, listen to what im tellin you
This particular style may vary
The things i converse about are heard rarely
Some cant bear me, others try to scare me
Soundin intelligent but not yet equivalent!!
You know what??
[all] you got a **** beat
[krs] i got a **** beat!
[all] we got a **** beat
[krs] i got the **** beat?
[all] you got the **** beat
[krs] i got the **** beat!
[all] we got the **** beat!
[krs] ive got the **** beat !
[all] youve got the **** beat
[krs] i got the **** beat!
[all] we got the **** beat
[krs] beat that we got??
[all] the **** beat!
I.c.u., is in the house...
Miss melodie, is in the house...
Lena love, is in the house...
D-nice, rocks the house...
Gold miss idol, rocks the house...
Flavois walker, turns em out...
40th street black, knocks em out...
To my mellow moses gun, rock the house...
Naughty, bust it out...
Mcboo, turns it out...
Chuck chillout , cuts it up...
Red alert, breaks it out...
Scott larock jr..
My pride and joy...
Krs-one.. his mothers first son
And no hell never run...
Bd... bd...
Scott larock...
Scott larock