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KRS-One

Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic)

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  underground hip-hop  hiphop
605 3 часа назад

Текст песни KRS-One - Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic)

KRS-One - Mortal Thought (I Must Roc the Mic) слова песни

Adjust that treble right now adjust the bassTurn it up, stop frontinC`mon, turn it upAlright, check it out ninety-three lyrics, here we goBo!I never want a jheri curl up under my hatThe woman in my bed has got to be strictly blackI never want money if my lyrics are wackSo I must, roc, the micI play only the reggae and I play only rapI rock the African, the European, and JapBeneath I got to show you that I am all thatSo I must, roc, the micAre you tired of lyrical liars, passing fliersWannabe MC`s, but really good triersTripping over mic cords, getting you boredA total fraud, this kind of thing I can`t afford, so Ipick up the mic and kill it ill it top bill itThe cough is a skillet, where MC`s get fried in itYou got beef chill it, blood I spill itAfter seven long years of ripping the party and I`m still widditYou call my name I don`t think about suing yaI come to the club with that BOOYAKALaughing while I`m doin ya the crowd is booin yaGimme one month, record for record on tape I`ll ruin yaSome likkle awl pon sound bwoy wan fi rule de cityHis style is lookin pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibbyHere comes the rootical ratical teachaI`ll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya teeth chatterYou`ll be goin through convulsions as I flash dataAny rapper can be a decapitated rapper now what`s the matterYou`re full of more junk than a sausageLet me show you what a real hip-hop artist*DJ Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*I never want a jheri curl up under my hatThe woman in my bed has got to be strictly blackI never want money if my lyrics are wackSo I must, roc, the micI play only the reggae and I play only rapI rock the African, the European, and JapBeneath I got to show you that I am all thatSo I must, roc, the micOf course yeah I`m the most brilliant recording artist in your lifeNever have to repeat a rhyme style twice, preciseIn a lyrical drought like water to your lips oh yes my lyrics will sufficeI`m nice, like beans and rice, I am deliciousWho`s the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don`t want to fuck with Kris isLyric for lyric rhyme for rhyme style for style I break you like dishesEither you come fully correct or the lyrics you simply makin wishesWe got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin wishesyouse a fraud, I mean a fraud like in fraudulationI know what it is, the crown of rhyme supremacy you`re tastinAnd yes, before the flavor hits your greedy tongueYou get ripped up by KRS-OneNow, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, from the lyrical terroristHere`s a little somethin for you all to remember Kris, and remember thisI am no pessimist, more of an optimistActivist revolutionist, yes the hardest artistAnd the smartest, Premier, spark this*Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx is thick!"*I never want a jheri curl up under my hatThe woman in my bed has got to be strictly blackI never want money if my lyrics are wackSo I must, roc, the micI play only the reggae and I play only rapI rock the African, the European, and JapBeneath I got to show you that I am all thatSo I must, roc, the mic

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