(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
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