Intro/chorus: sung to the tune of blondie's "rapture"



Step into a world (klaka klaka, klaka klaka!)

Where there's no one left (buku, buku! alla de massive!)

But the very best (klaka, bo bo, bdp crew, bo bo bo bo!)

No mc can test *cut and scratch of krs saying "but one"*

Step into a world, where hip-hop is me

Where mc's and dj's

Build up their skills as they play every day

For the, rapture



Yeah, what what!

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!



Verse one:



I'm bout to hit you wit that tradional style of cold rockin

Givin options for head knockin non stoppin

Tip-toppin lyrics we droppin but styles can be forgotten

So we bring back the raw hip-hoppin

Just like the records and tapes you be coppin

Cop some breakdancin, boogie poppin, and lockin

Tic tockin, guaranteed to have you clockin

We only get better and only better we have gotten

This type of flow don't even think about stoppin

Beware, the length of the rhyme flow can be shockin

All music lovers in the place right now

That never understood the way that krs got down

Yo i'm strictly about skills and dope lyrical coastin

Relying on talent, not marketing and promotion

If a dope lyrical flow is a must

You gots to go with a name you can quickly trust

I'm not sayin i'm number one, uhh i'm sorry, i lied

I'm number one, two, three, four and five

Stop wastin your money on marketing schemes

And pretty packages pushin dreams to the beams

A dope mc is a dope mc

With or witout a record deal, all can see

And that's who krs be son

I'm not the run of mill, cause for the mill i don't run



Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!



Chorus



Verse two:



Yeah, yeah

Everybody on the mic in the party sound alike

Until i recite, in black and white what's right

Let me take flight, my style is tight an good

Tight an good, come is it tight an good

Old styles i pass dat, slow down on fast rap

All in yo' ass crack, old king go blast dat

Conjure to ask dat, hyper type of flashback

I publish like ascap lyrics for hand clap

No past rappin, youth trackin, talent lackin

Mc's more worried about their financial backin

Steady packin a gat as if something's gonna happen

But it doesn't, they wind up shootin they cousin, they buggin

I appear everywhere and nowhere at once

I know my style is bumpin, even though some people front

It's the god of rap, you heard of it

The one that rhymes toward the sky givin airplanes mad turbulence

In rap tournaments, i reign permanent

Don't you think by now the number one spot i'm not concerned with it

The course of rap i'm turnin it

Back to that good old fashioned way of getting cash money by earning it

No bogus hocus pocus, i bring back to focus

Skills if you notice my position is lotus

Now quote this, mc's are just hopeless

Thinkin record sales make them the dopest



Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!



Chorus


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