Tonalité : G major
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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Let us be gin,
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what, where, why or when
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Will all be explained like
instructions to a game
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See I'm not insane,
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in fact I'm kind of rational
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When I be asking you,
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"Who is more dramatical?"
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This one or that one,
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the white one or the black one
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Pick the punk,
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and I'll jump up to attack one
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KRS-One is just the guy to lead a crew
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Right up to your face and diss you
Everyone saw me on the
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last album cover
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Holding a pistol something
far from a lover
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Beside my brother, S-C-O-T-T
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I I I I I just laughed,
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cause no one can defeat me
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This is lecture number two,
"My Philosophy"
Number one,
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was "Poetry" you know it's me
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This is "My Philosophy," many
artists got to learn
I'm not flammable, I don't burn
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So please stop burning,
and learn to earn respect
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Cause that's just what KR collects
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See, what do you expect when you
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rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
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You got to have style,
and learn to be original
And everybody's gonna wanna diss you
Like me, we stood up for the
South Bronx
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And every sucker MC had a response
You think we care? I know that
they are on the tip
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My posse from the Bronx is thick
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In real real life, we roll correctly
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A lot of suckers would
like to forget me
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But they can't,
cause like a champ I have got a record
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Of knocking out the frauds in a second
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On the mic, I believe that
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you should get loose
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I haven't come to tell you I got juice
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I just produce, create,
innovate on a higher level
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I'll be back, but for now just seckle! I'll
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play the nine and you play the target
You all know my name so
I guess I'll just start it
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Or should I say start this,
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teaching I'm the artist
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Styles and new concepts at their hardest
Yo, cos I'm a teacher and Scott is a scholar
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It ain't about money cause we
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all make dollars
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That's why I walk with my head up
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When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up
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Rap is like a set-up, a a lot of games
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A lot of suckers with colorful names
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I'm so-and-so,
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I'm I'm I'm this, I'm that
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Huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack
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I'm I'm I'm not white or red or black,
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I'm brown
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From the Boogie Down
Productions,
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of course our music be thumping
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Others say they're bad,
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but they're bugging
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Let me tell you something
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now about Hip Hop
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About D-Nice, Melodie, Melodie,
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and Scott La Rock
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I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker
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Mainly what I write is for the
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av erage New Yorker
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Some MC's be talking and talking
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Trying to show how black
people are walking
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But I don't walk this way to portray
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Or reinforce stereotypes of today
Like all my brothers eat
chicken and watermelon
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Talk broken english and drug selling
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See I'm telling, and teaching pure facts
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The way some act in rap is kind of wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
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But they don't care cause their
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company's selling it
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It's my philosophy, on the industry
Don't bother dissing me,
or even wishing we'd
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Soften, dilute,
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or commercialize all the lyrics
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Cause it's about time one of y'all hear it
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And hear it first-hand from from an
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intelligent brown man
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A vegetarian, no goat or ham
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Or chicken or turkey or hamburger
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Cause to me that's suicide, self-murder
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Let Let us get back to
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what we call Hip Hop
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And what it meant to DJ Scott
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La Rock
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Verse 2
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How many MC's must get dissed
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Before somebody says,
"Don't f*** with Kris!"
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This is just one style, out of many
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Like a piggy bank, this is one penny
My brother's name is Kenny
- that's Kenny Parker
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My other brother I.C.U. is much darker
Boogie Down Productions is
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made up of teachers
The lecture is conducted from the
mic into the speaker
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Who gets weaker? The
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king or the teacher
It's not about a salary it's all
about reality
Teachers teach and do
the world good
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Kings just rule and most
are never understood
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If you were to rule or govern
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a certain industry
All inside this room right now
would be in misery
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No one would get along nor sing a song
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Cause everyone'd be singing for the king,
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am I wrong?!
I say yo, what's up, it's me again
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Scott La Rock, KRS, BDP again
Many people had the nerve to
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think we would end the trend
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With Criminal Minded,
an album which is only ten
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Funky, funky, funky, funky,
funky hit records
No more than four minutes
and some seconds
The competition checks and checks
and keeps checking
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They take the album, take it home,
and start sweating
Why? Well it's simple,
to them it's kind of vital
To take KRS-One's title
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To them I'm like an idol, some type of entity
In everybody's rhyme
they wanna mention me
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Or rather mention us, me or Scott La Rock
But they can get bust get robbed,
get dropped
I don't play around nor do I F around
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And you can tell by the bodies
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that are left around
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When some clown jumps
up to get beat down
Broken down to his very last compound
See how it sounds? a little unrational
A lot of emcees like to use the
word dramatical!
Fresh for '88, you suckers
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