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And here now another KRS classic

anybody in here right now with tape decks turn em on
and put em on record I’ll give you a second
I want to add authenticity to your tape
so when it’s sold out in the street
you all can know this was a real party

These are poems circulating throughout the nation
everybody’s bad and everybody’s tough
but how many people are intelligent enough
to open up their eyes and see through the lies
discipline themselves, yourself to stay alive?
not many
That’s why the universe sent me today on this stage
with this to to say
the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer
and in the final hour many heads will lose power
what does the rich versus the poor really mean?
psychologically it means you got to pick your team
when someone says the rich gets richer
visualize wealth and put yourselves in the picture
the rich get richer, cause they work towards rich
the poor get poorer, cause their minds can’t switch from the ghetto
let go, it’s not a novelty
you could love your neighborhood without loving poverty
follow me, every mother, father, son, daughter
there’s no reason to fear the New World Order
we must order the whole new world to pay us
the New World Order and the old state chaos
the Big Brother watching over you, is a lie you see
Hip-Hop could build it’s own secret society
but first you and I got to unify
stop the negativity and control our creativity
the rich is getting richer, so why we ain’t richer?
could it be we still thinking like niggas?
educate yourselves, make your world view bigger
visualize wealth and put yourselves in the picture!

Awww yeah! All ruffneck rudebwoy hold tight
Just a little somethin for the Jeep
Turn my voice up a little bit and let’s get this started
Comin to you live and direct from the 1986 version
Comin up to 1993
Of course Premier on the beat
Now check it out

The girlies is FREEE EEE cause the crack cost money oh yeah!
I said the girlies is FREEE EEE cause the crack cost money oh yeah!

Ridin one day in a ’92 Beamer
After seven years I seen Denise she still a skeezer
But look what she did, she went and had a kid — no dad
And just released her ass out the rehab
You think she’d act like she don’t know
She’s still a hoe, but umm check my man for the show
“Hiiiii, DJ K-R-S”
She tried to shake her butt, I rolled my window up!
She got pissed and said, “You ain’t all that!”
And went and got some other girl schemin for crack
In my car, I couldn’t hear what they spoke about
I hit the ac-celerator and I was out!
I never check my man but I knew the plan
Come to the jam MC’s in there be thinkin they Superman
Sure enough, the place is packed with no breeze
Crazy girls — and wall to wall MC’s
I’m like a cat these MC’s are Fancy Feast
I’m thinkin of rhymes but I’m interrupted by Denise
She said, “Kris I really need a favor honey
My girlfriend here really needs some quick money!”
I looked at her girlfriend and her girlfriend was fly
But I ain’t stupid, she had that LOOK in her eye
I touched her back, she said, “Denise has he got the crack?
Is he the one? I gotta run back and feed my son”
I said, “How old is your son?” She said, “Three months”
I walked away but my man cold bust her fronts
So she pulled out a gun and shot him in the party
Except for the MC’s, I knew EVERYBODY
She tried to let off a shot, one more time
But got stomped so bad, she turned to wine
No one could find Denise for several weeks
You know the time, on this ’93 beat

The girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!
I said the girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!

I knew a group that had a dope lead singer
Swinger, single guy, that knew his style was fly
After the show he was tired sweaty and kinda sloppy
But of course, a million girls are in the lobby!
He saw a group of girls hangin out and lookin good
So he took one to his room because he knew he could
Inside the room he said, “Make love to me and never stop”
She said, “Sure, but how’s about a crack rock?”
I knew my man down the hall had it all
So he called, down the hall, but homeboy wasn’t there at all
He turned to the girl and said, “My man ain’t there”
So she let down her hair, unzipped his pants down right there
Oral sex in effect, or rather deep throat
But just before he came she bit his dick and slit his throat
As he fell back dizzy, he began to choke
She took his wallet and said, “You ain’t broke!”

The girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!
I said the girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!

* DJ Premier cuts n scratches “Oh yeahhh!” *

Yes Premier you know you rule hip-hop, an’
yes Ced Gee you know you run hip-hop, an’
yes Kenny bwoy you run hip-hop, an’
but KRS-One’ll rock it non-stop!
When I’m Brooklyn, we rulin HIP-HOP!
When I’m in Jersey, we runnin hip-hop
Over in Brazil yes we rulin HIP-HOP!
Over in Germany we rulin hip-hop
But in New York, we rulin y’all tonight badda-bye-bye-bye
In New York, we rulin y’all to-NIGHT!
We come to rock you whether you black or you white
Cause KRS-One, you know I’m never frank, come catch the style

The girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!
I said the girlies is FREEE-EEE, cause the crack cost money, oh yeah!

Intro:

So in the clubs I get (mad)
On the mic I get (mad)
On the beats I get (mad)
Yo

Chorus:

I got the
(Mad mad crew up in the house)
I’m wit the
I be chillin’ wit the
I’m rollin’ wit the

Verse One:

See this is what I’m sayin’ and I know you don’t see this
Wack underpriveledged MCs think they can see Kris
They watchin’ too much television and they rocka
This ain’t the TV show “Taxi,” and I ain’t Lotka
I break an MC off proper, yo don’t check me
Ask your Moms and Pops, yo they respect me
But here you stand, tryin’ to get yours, but gettin’ NOTHIN’
You probably can’t spell “Boogie Down” or “Productions”
I play for jeeps, I play for keeps, I play for streets, believe me
Put down the microphone and consider a squeegie
You’re rated PG
Again I win when I begin
I’m slammin’ again, no win, try to comprehend
I don’t bend
I ravage and damage
I’m wild like a savage, kickin’ asses
Hot flashes, your style’s with trash’s
Stay out of my classes, PUNK
Stay out of my classes – yo

Chorus:


Verse Two:

Twinkle, twinkle to the little rap star
I got all type of MC tongue in a pickle jar
So here’s a quick freestyle to my target:
My core audience, *fuck* the rest of the market!
‘Cause I spark it, styles I loanshark it
Then break your legs if you try to chart it
I got heart, it
Doesn’t take a lot to rock a record, get wit it
Some MCs can’t rock for five minutes
Sorry, that’s not the way to approach me
Use caution
I rip up lyrical crews and MCs often
You probably don’t know this:
I give birth to MCs
And I also give abortions
I’ll do a number to your body structure
You look like supper
And I’m that _hungry_ motherfucker!
You don’t wanna be on the menu!
I’ll end you, twist you up and bend you
Like Gestapo
Pick up the microphone and crush up MC like a taco
No, we’re never sad because we nah deal with sorrow
That’s why dem challenge me, jah man you know dem challenge trouble
Me are number one of me there is no double!
And you don’t want no trouble
‘Cause Blastmaster KRS is flashin’ lyrics on the double

Chorus

Verse Three:

Check
Me comin’ on quick, me cominadance, now me a sing
KRS-One in a party, man me do me own ting
Nuff MC test, but you don’t hear vowel one
All you hear is when the BDP crew slap them up
We have the champion belt and lyrical cup
Any DJ they want my title filled, no way now man step up
But when you lose, now understand you get fucked up
This ain’t no game upon the mic
Me bring the noise to you like Chuck

Chorus:

Kid Capri got the
Gang Starr got the
Ill Will got the
Flavor Unit got the

KRS One representing Ma 6T va Crack er
Cercle Rouge KRS One
Droppin on em like this
Pick it up pick it up
You know what time it is when KRS One comes through
Representing all true hip hop culture
You know how we do

How can they throw you in prison now for long years
If in reality the black man doesn’t belong here
Have you forgotten how we got to this place
Why then are all the jails predominantly the black race
If you dont teach me my culture I dont know who I am
I dont know the difference between my enemy and my friend
So I’m robbin and killin I got nothing to live for
You turn my father into a boy my mother into a whore
Now I’m hardcore on the Ave
Watching while people that got me to walk fast
After beatin us, rapin us and robbin us
400 years of that’s what’s inside of us
Take a look at me now I’m really your creation
A technological anti-human mutation
A mutation of a better way of life
You first pulled the knife but to heal it will take my whole life
I fought no force on this level
I listen to bass and treble
Thinking that the white man is the devil
Cause who could be so cruel like this
So heartless, so senseless
But I’m taught by the devil
To grow up and be a Devil
To do the same devilish things on another level
However when I act out the mission
You turn around and throw me in prison
You a sucker

Chorus: KRS-One

If you come from France
and you like the breakdance say OHOH (OHOH)
And If you come from New York
and you like the way I talk say Yeah (Yeah)

You can kill a man by taking him out of his land
And putting him in a land he really doesnt understand
Then teach him to respect Greek mythology like
Pythagorus, Ptolomies, Socrates
These people are thieves
They stole us astronomy, mathematics, all tactics of biology
Even the concept of democracy stolen from the king Akhanoton
Put down the book, use your brain
If you dont know who you are you are clinically insane
The board of education cant see that
Well it deserves to get beaten and robbed by black
Give me my frame of mind back
Give me my culture
But you dont understand that cause you a sucker

Chorus

I see Beauval in the house, Collinet in the house
Sarcelles in the house, Cercle Rouge in the house
KRS-One rocks the mike without a doubt
Turning parties out
You know what I am about
Cause we will be here forever I told you
Soldier floods your mind like Noah
As you get older you’ve got to pay attention
At how you livin hardcore
You aint a kid anymore grow up, to blow up the spot you’re at
Learn the skill and go to the top of that
Cercle Rouge definitely rockin in rap
KRS-One I got your back

Chorus

KRS-One with the freestyle rhyme
Representing Cercle Rouge in France
All the graffiti artists
we like to breakdance to the MC yes you know that’s me
KRS-One down with the BDP
From way back you know we take it like that
Kenny P and Zizwe, Will-Dee, gods of rap
We do it like this, do it like that

Right now as we rockin they shootin outside
Now we have got to chill
We have got to chill
We can’t have no gunfire because hip hop can’t build

Let’s leave all the shootin and the violence outside
I know there’s some people in here armed to the teeth
But understand…
It is the conciousness behind the gun
that determines if the gun is positive or negative
So let’s not blame it on no pistols no guns no gats
Let’s blame it on the conciousness of the mind holding the gat

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 8X)

Verse One: RBX

While childish MC’s battle over coastal fronts
I come with no fronts and smash in monkey fronts
If you want to be evil like Knieval then jump
I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump
The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the mental
custom designed, for instrumental
Yes indeedy, lyrical graffiti
And this one’s a burner, baby
Truck, like Toyata driven
True and livin drivin with the gat
Uhh, pop the clutch, let the Cold Crush rush
Then I flush wack material
That’s if I don’t mash them all to mush
Hush, let me burst, dare I gush
Cock-diezel cuts
Lyrical arsenal equivalent to arsenic

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 4X)

Verse Two: KRS-One

Yo, why do they make me wanna ruin they career?
Before I bust your shit let’s get one thing clear
Don’t provoke Kris no joke this
I don’t ride no rapper’s nutsac yo I stay focused
Beefin without skills seekin will only weaken
The artist speakin over beats and, you be cheatin
Cacaphony of small talent rappers, claimin a coast
over instrumentals, ain’t got no real street credentials
Here come the philosopher hip-hopppin ya correctly
Ignorant ass MC’s continue to tempt me
Lyrics be empty like Alcatraz cellblock
Too many MC’s rappin causin lyrical gridlock
Lyrical syllables interlock in my voicebox
Yet I’m still unknown like the X on Sadat
Just your typical, non-topical
Flex the optical illusion weak metaphoric style you be usin
I check one-two’s and who’s in the house
Like shit your lyrics ooze out ya mouth
Whattyou think this is? KRS-One from the Bronx kid!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 8X)

Welcome to the New World Order
You are now under martial law
All constituional rights have been suspended

Verse Three: B-Real

The most scandalous, cut the bad apple, we can handle this
Coast trippin goin on through out the business
East Coast West Coast anybody killer!
I don’t give a fuck where you from I’ma Killa Hill-er
I got crews on both sides together
Deeper than the ocean and down for whatever
Fool I can roll through any block
from Central to Westland Avenue, without my glock
But some niggaz can’t survive on both sides
So they try and break off, eliminate ties
Fools got to get wise, better realize
True, enemy lies killin in the highrise
office, analyzing the song
Look at them red niggaz, don’t even get along
Kill that noise, four niggaz bringin the skill
Mad caps get peeled if you oppose the Hill

Yeah that’s right fool, you know who, the mighty Group Therapy
The mighty mighty Aftermath brigade, letting all you sound boys know
You’re not ready to rumble or test this
Kill that noise!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer (repeat 8X)

Verse Four: Nas

Now when I bomb like Sadaam, the world feels The Wrath of Khan
Desert Storm in this modern day Babylon
I be the twelve disciples strap arms
All black on running your spot hit the safe and I’m gone
Like a thief wrong, I keep the long 38 warm
Silent and calm, and blackout when the beef is on
Focus on your rap holsters, notice
I’m evil like the Exorcist to the locusts
Ferocious thoughts, are mergin at night
Like Jehovah towards the virgin in white
I’m wrapped in a turban for spite
Like a Israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow’s up
When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands up
It’s a holdup, frontin like you down for the real
to make a meal, but when plan fold, nigga you squeal
like Heavy Heel, but what’s the fuckin deal?

East coast *killer* West coast *killer* (repeat 16X)
Check out more Lyrics from Dr. Dre F/ Group Therapy (B-Real, KRS-One, Nas, RBX). 
Write a comment and let everybody know what you think this song is about!