Let me see, let me see

How should I start

If I say stop the violence, I won't chart

Maybe I should write some songs like Mozart

'Cause many people don't believe rap is an art

Wake up, shake up, hypocrite look alive

Blastmaster KRS-One will revive

Four or five million still deprived

When out to survive, wake up and realize

Some people say I am a rap missionary

Some people say I am a walking dictionary

Some people say I am truly legendary

But what I am is simply a black revolutionary

I write rhymes on plain stationary

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

Doesn't make sense in my vocabulary

Uncle Tom house niggaz, too scary

So they can't be around, I don't do this

For every Jesus, there must be a Judas

It's the concept of the house nigga, field nigga

The house nigga will sell you up the river

So to massa, he'll look bigger

And when ya bet under a rock, he'll slither

But I'll grab the tail of the house nigga

Pull the trigger and his head I'll deliver

To the court of righteous people

Black, white, or Indian, we're all equal

So all ya racist codes I'll decode, explode

And eat you like apple pie a la mode

On a hot day, don't bring me no hamhocks

Cause round the clock, I'll kick their buttocks

All afternoon in the classroom, in the living room

In the bathroom, in the swimming pool

On a footstool, then I'll stop -- nope, April fools!

Whip out the baseball bat and somehow

March your racist butt to Moscow



Ya know what I'm saying?

Are there any, are there any intelligent people in the house?



What can I say, o ye of little faith

To think that KRS-One has surely been erased

What a waste, my finger points at the face of the human race

They're confused and misplaced

My words are subliminal, sometimes metaphysical

I teach, not preach, you want a challenge? I'll start dissin you

I go philosophical by topical

Hearin the call, ignorant, hot tropical

Ya want a palm tree and nice dope shade?

Only if the universal law is obeyed

Which is "know thyself" for better mental health

Yet so many rappers are preoccupied with wealth

On my shelf I got titles

Other artists want belts and idols

World cups from seminars and conventions

Competition and not to mention

The award shows for pimps and hoes

And every other hypocrite that flaunt their clothes

KRS knows, so he just grows

Always sayin somethin different from the average Joe's

So I confront them with the biggest chain

but it doesn't rate albums, I believe it is the brain

So I'll remain free while you reign, I'm lovin it

You be the king and I'll overthrow your government

Send your crew to Berlin or Dublin

I'll out-think em, chump em, and shrink em

Down to ya size, despite the cries

In the face of intelligence, ignorance dies

Dear, it's simple edutainment

Rap needed a teacher, so I became it

Rough and ready, the beats are very steady

With lyrics sharp as a machete

Clap, there's another house niggaz neck

Another soft Unlce Tom crew is in check

Ego wrecked and rhymes corrected

By KRS-One, produced and directed