Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4x)
The type of lyrical terrorism I present
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent
You be hearing me now for the past 12 semesters
When a sucker steps up, I had to use the drastic measures
I know you want to step to me, kid
But you're thinking, "Damn, Kris is kinda big"
Plus he rolls with the 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 the face I'd be wrong
Don't even think about battling with a song
You'll be caught, 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 fucking name
Blastmaster KRS is thinking long range
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4x)
Yeah we in there, like you'll soon be in prison
(You a *edited*)
Who you kidding? You're only trying to rock a party
You ain't really down to shoot nobody
So why you fronting? Saying from the cops you be running
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl
I'll (edited
Out) like Lionel
In jail you ain't got respect
You're a fairy, I be taking your commisary
And a picture of your sister, mister
The CD is Pee-Wee Herman, I ain't trying to diss her
This ain't no bullshit game and I ain't changed
I'm just thinking long range
People died so I can rhyme
You think I'm going to 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 dilsnick
Changing the subject, your rhyme style ain't correct
You know the teacher's name
Blastmaster KRS is thinking long range
The type of lyrical terrorism I present
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent
You be hearing me now for the past 12 semesters
When a sucker steps up, I had to use the drastic measures
I know you want to step to me, kid
But you're thinking, "Damn, Kris is kinda big"
Plus he rolls with the 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 the face I'd be wrong
Don't even think about battling with a song
You'll be caught, 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 fucking name
Blastmaster KRS is thinking long range
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4x)
Yeah we in there, like you'll soon be in prison
(You a *edited*)
Who you kidding? You're only trying to rock a party
You ain't really down to shoot nobody
So why you fronting? Saying from the cops you be running
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl
I'll (edited
Out) like Lionel
In jail you ain't got respect
You're a fairy, I be taking your commisary
And a picture of your sister, mister
The CD is Pee-Wee Herman, I ain't trying to diss her
This ain't no bullshit game and I ain't changed
I'm just thinking long range
People died so I can rhyme
You think I'm going to 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 dilsnick
Changing the subject, your rhyme style ain't correct
You know the teacher's name
Blastmaster KRS is thinking long range
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