(Yo man, these people around here in '87 just slippin-dough, you know what

I'm sayin? Boogie Down Productions not slippin-dough, so hold ya hands-you

know what I'm sayin? (word) Yo! What's goin' on? Mr. Magic-you know what

happened? He slipped on us-he die. Pumpin KISS FM, we rock. To my man DJ

Red Alert- we chillin' (word). Yo man! Yo do, heard about, man, this shit

about this kid-Wearin' the, ah, Jerry Curls, man. Word up! He was slippin'.

Yo dough, word up, word up. He had a yellow coat on, but no description was

given)



Now what you just heard, people, was a little kickin

But let me tell you this while the clock is still tickin

This is the warning, known as the caution:

Do not attempt to dis cuz you'll soften

Just like a pillow, or better yet a mattress

You can't match this style or attack this

While I'm telling you, write on schedule

Fuck with K-R-S and I'll bury you

Deep in the dirt, or sand with a shovel

No fight, no scurry, or scuffle, just muffle

Total domination on stage

Kris is the name, 22 is the age

Those who wanna battle, I know who you are

You got a little girl, you drive a little car

You come into the place with that look on your face

Before you ran the mile, you lost the race

So assume you're doomed when you step in the room

I'll be the witch and you'll be the broom

I'll ride you, guide you into the concrete

I'll slide you to a funky beat

So what do we have here?

A sucka in fear

I snatched your heart

Put it way up on the chart

At ten you're fucked

At nine you suck

At eight you're a sucker

At seven-a mothafucka

At six you're slapped

At five you're just wacked

At four you're lost

At