(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
