But yo, you step this way, you're gettin' played out of position
So let me give you a little start, check it out
I'm the freshest thing on the mic, don't mess with me
That you hear, my dear to get one thing clear
But instead bring intellect pon ting
And finished and like the evening, I'll fade
You come into the place you can't look in my face
Kenny drops the beat and we turn the party out
Like I said, I'm not a Muslim but to Allah, I'm obedient
We haffa likka of a shot an towah? Let's get back to the hip hop
Rippin' up sucker, teachers put their courage to an end
The party is packed, he got the mic in his hand
To guide ink off the paper through the air, smack in your face
Don't entertain the thought of droppin' me, to think of me
But when I return you'll cry for more shade
Why? The reason is the sun is the sun
They fail to realize, respect will outlast cash
You don't test me, you ain't a chemist and I sure ain't chemistry
Whether on welfare or millionaire
Forever too clever for a petty MC in leather
When the sun appears none are visible to the eye
And I'd rather listen to the brand Nubians
Come down Kenny Park
These type of lyrical styles cannot be said sloppily
You either have the hits or the crazy hype lyrics
None of 'em lyrical but their ego is critical
I seek the direction of the brown complexion
You're lucky you're from the same race
To set the trend and lend to other men a perfect blend
Others are dreamin' it with sex me and do me
Some MC's on the mic become Muslims when it's convenient
You know it's funny, everybody wants money
That's weak, flashin' gold and can't speak
Brooklyn's ready, Uptown's in the house
And material things from cars and chicken wings
'Cause the light is bright and I'm towerin' in height
Don't step to this here or you outta here
But I'm a Parker, so I'll play you like Monopoly
Allow me now to please change the gear
The teacher will come again and again and again and again
That's it, none of the gimmicks tricks, oh it's
Have me feared, come, we come in the dance
You're not a mathematician and my name ain't geometry
It's time that I rock and sing not about my ding-a-ling-a-ling
With the style from the street, you compete with the elite
From a artist and a lip-syncin' model, right on stage
See there are millions of stars in the sky
I rip it up constantly, you're holdin' my dick like a throttle
So when their lyrics finish, KRS-One just begin
Whenever they decide, whatever I'm in sync
You're no astronomer, why see me as astronomy?
Why play you a gangsta? If you ain't a hoe, why sell sex?
Their respect doesn't weeble or wobble, they know the difference
And pick up the mic you missed those happen around me
So you know reality, in other words if you ain't a gangsta
Just in case, get the fuck out my face, I run this place
So every year, I appear somewhere
If you believe in Allah, how is it you can only work when there's a check?
You know, I don't know what your management be tellin' you
The charts are not equal to the respect of the people
You'll get a bottle, you're holdin' my dick like a throttle
And erase in haste the rhymes you embrace
Every time KRS-One steps in the jam
So check the dancestyle 'cause I am not softening up
When they sing, they sing for the cash
But MC's come half assed and lookin' pitiful
The lyrics I write, help me think
And I've seen it, real Muslims praise Allah and they mean it
You get respect by bein' creative and yes, a native to your audience
So once again, the trend setter comes a lot better
As anything less than your teacher, crazy you got to be
You can't possibly rock until I'm done
A simple technique will keep you on beat
I'm fresher than your grandmother's fried chicken recipe
I don't know what your producers be tellin' you
All of this is incorrect, first should always come respect
'Cause you can inject ignorance in rap
