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KRS One
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As You Already Know (Featuring Truck Turner, Big Pun, And Kool G. Rap)
Now y'all already know I don't care who's first or who last But even though it's a new millennium You still got to rock this at the drop of a dime, baby
Fuck y'all niggaz want? Is it Truck, well, you got it Bet this gunblast, seek your chest and leave your moms brokenhearted Get me started, come up against this, is you retarded I ain't shit on you motherfuckers yet, I only farted
Take the dopest nigga from my borough, that's Kris, put him on my shit The hottest latino rapper Big Pun, up on this fly shit G. Rap, the sole survivor with Truck, kills all the nonsense With Marley doin' the track, it's big, I mean Jurassic
Like Coke this is a classic, from the cradle, to the casket Gonna blow from Bangkok to Brooklyn Beijing to the boogie down, then back to my block Cops follow the trail, that lead back to me
I'm waitin for 'em with 2 glocks, blow they balls off like 2Pac Go clutch, the holy drawers, can't save you Still gonna be a holocaust, Truck Turner, show no remorse Go 'head nigga, floss
We gon' be around when the sun go down to rob you Then gun you down, the fo'-fo' make a thunder sound Rush in like, hug the ground I'ma count to 10, don't turn around You see my face? I'ma blaze you
Lettin' in off, another round and another round 'Til your family, put your underground I told you kid, I lay you down Spray you down, claim your town, Bronx bound
A team player don't play around Who am I? Truck Turner, you're learnin' now No matter, where you from, I'm the arsonist, I burn it down (Don't fuck with that boy, next up)
Soy, con [unverified]aqui (Boricua, light up the mic for the symphony) Whack rappers I humiliate like half a mic in The Source Blast you right off of the stage and engrave a butcher knife in your corpse What'chu writin' is soft, I'm Pearl Harbor war
Run up on your small empire and spray your tires like you Armor All Who wanna brawl with the Bronx finest Talk your highness [unverified]thicker force like our monster rhymers Hate y'all B, I know you hate my stee'
'Cause I'm the son of Tony, you phony like fake ID It's the S H I T, you can smell it Gun smoke makin' you choke, take a toke and inhale it Now you can feel it, what? Deep inside your lungs
Like hot pellets when you're shot up, we supply the guns Now where you from, state your restin' zone I'm from the BX, B'lawn is where T.S. call home, where KRS was born Let it be known if I don't get you watch for our God
更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 'Cause when you diss Kris, you disrespectin' my squad Put that on my mother, motherfucker How dare you disrespect, bitch?
Aiyyo, we comin' through with the fifth and glock, rippin' shots And hittin' blocks, leavin' kids rocked, put in a hidden box Splittin' tops, leave his face hot, dotted like chickenpox Cursin' cops with bloodhounds, sniffin' socks, sniffin' rocks
No trace, get your clique rubbed, your wigs plugged, the shit blood Catch your big mug, topless just like a chick with big jugs Up in the strip club, beer is a Bud, no coffee Blowtorch like auto mechanics, you ordered to panic
She slaughter you bandits, your daughter be planted, inside the ground More than the granite, my gunshots'll make you orbit the planet Roots of evil peepin' up all legal or illegal, the four-fours are lethal Cock back the gat to pop the wheelies like Knievel
Fire shots to rented Regals Leave all your peoples with palsy in they cerebrals Deadly as an addicts needle, let automatics reap you Sweep you, I'm sendin' you to Lucifer to keep you
Heat you, nail you to the cross on top of the church's steeple Red dots cover your face like the measles Next up (I believe that's me) Aiyyo, KRS, light up the mic for the symphony
Yo, yo, yo, bitch ass, here's a quick class I'm the Blastmaster 'cause I blast and whip ass, this'll be over quick, fast Keep mixin' it, spittin' it, bendin' it Did it like juice with gin in it, ha, ha, jackpot, we winnin' it
You talk that shit but you really illiterate Read your shit like he, he, he, teh, teh, teh, teh Sound out the word, connect the noun with the verb Stick with bird-bird 'cause the battle's absurd
Don't let these young kids go soup that ass up You'll get smashed up, you gassed up, you puttin' that ass up, really? I don't even see you in the new millennium I see you like on VH1 with Milli Vanilli an' them
Talkin' about what you used to have, your abusive dad Oh, it's so, so sad 'cause I'm just so, so death defyin', mesmerizin' Every time you say you dope that's false advertisin' but it's not surprisin' You lyin', you ain't no battle hog
What you got one demo, against my 12 year catalog? Nigga, back up, this is the Bronx in the house Truck Turner, KRS without a doubt
Now y'all rippin' my damn microphone, down to nothin' Kool G. Rap, Big Punisher, my man, Truck Turner KRS-One, y'all never get on my damn microphone again Y'all crazy, get out of here, beat it
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