Woorden: KRS One. De Automatic.

Some fear de automatic
Check it out

Some fear de automatic, yes de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de automatic
Tonight a rapper gwan die

Crazy MC's waste they time chasin' millions
While KRS-One, holds the minds of the children
I'm buildin' a followin' of a hundred and forty-four thousand
Chosen few heads up in project housin'

A true rapper, street rapper, rappin' to the center
I enter any cipher, with tales of adventure
If rappers are ridin' beats like cars, I'm bendin' mad fenders
Put down your mic and surrender

Youse a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement
Kickin' Edutainment while you wait for your arraignment
Save it friend before your chest I cave it in
I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin' Harley Davidson

How do you think I kick a lyrical style no and you figure
It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga
Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter
For starters, I come at you poetically harder

De automatic, get de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de automatic
Tonight a rapper gwan die

Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you think you got juice?
When you rock a pair of panties underneath your bubblegoose
KRS-One will fuck up parties dramatically
My reflex'll slap a wack rapper automatically

When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the dark
I was sleepin' out in Prospect Park
Eatin' one meal every 48 hours
Writin' dope rhyme styles that you now devour

Don't you realize, that I'm all about survival
I got only friends 'cause I killed all my rivals
Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they titles
From eighty-six to ninety-six completes my first cycle

De automatic, get de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de automatic
Tonight a rapper gwan die

I spent 40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness
I'm hard, from head to toe yo there ain't no killin' this
I wrote over 100 rap hooks
And sociological books, while you worried about your looks

Now you wanna enter the dragon in sound
But I've got the live club show locked down
Platinum and gold don't hold in my arena
You gots to keep it real on the mic, when they see ya

I manifest, in the West the East and overseas
The vision in rap is wack and I don't know of these
I represent New York to be specific
The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted

I grab a jet and land on your set, what the fuck?
Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty bucks
I start from eighty-six and bring you into ninety-six
No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics

De automatic, get de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de automatic
Tonight a rapper gwan die

Yeah yeah, it's the God Fat Joe
Representin' the motherfuckin' South Bronx
With my nigga Kris, knockin' off frauds
Motherfuckers wanna do what?
Big shout out to my nigga Kenny Parker
Ill Will, BDP crew for life nigga
Naughty Gotto, the Big French productions
Of course the TAT crew, my nigga Brim
The T.S. crew, and the whole Godsville
South Bronx represent nigga, uhh
The South Bronx, the South South Bronx
South Bronx, the South South Bronx
Yeah, uhh