When the time's ill, I'm blowin' up spots like a minefield. When it's showtime, (What up, kid?) brothers know I could hold mine. I shoot and throw rhymes, the whole nine. When you're ridin' the next rapper's d***, (That's a gimmick!) When you're R&B and then ya cold flip, (That's a gimmick!) Start rhymin' hardcore just to get a hit, (That's a gimmick!) When ya get over but your skills ain't s***, (That's a gimmick!) When ya rap, but you don't have soul, (That's a gimmick!) When you cross over just to go gold, (That's a gimmick!) When you're not a gangsta, but portrayin' a role, (That's a gimmick!) What's when you shape in somebody else's mould? (That's a gimmick!) Man your station 'cause the clan you're facin' Is steppin' to ya trash m****f****s like sanitation. So when Finesse goes "hit it!", I'll never mimick. I got force, I came to your town to set it off. So whether from the east or from the west, there's no other KRS. Don't let me come out on that a**, Start flippin' the lyrics I be kickin' Be hotter than jerk chicken. Two months from now, you would have bit this, Watch me light that a** up like Christmas.
Where's your witness? If I'm on your d***, my name has got to be syphilis. You got a lotta rhymes to battle in a second, But frankly the bottom line is: where's your hit record? You claim I'm jockin', you claim I'm on your d***. I'm sellin' that real live s*** and you could get hurt, You're sellin' that fake s*** like the Home Shoppin' Network. You could slow or speed up the tempo, Your style is fake like Janet Jackson's nose. When I rhyme, I clean up MCs with the fresh smell of pine. Lyrical terror, you should never ever come for mine. I'm mad clever, I'll shoop your doop, you doop like Salt-N-Pepa. This is my "eara" or era or "eera", whatever. The lyrical teacher's not the one you should be checkin'. You'll get thrown across the room in that direction, listen. Punk, I battle MCs for real! f*** a record deal when you're still into hip-hoppin' Wit' your country a**, sound like you're still pickin' cotton. I'm not like those other rappers talkin' about the caps they peel. I raise the mic stand because I'm tall and I keep the crowd crawlin'. I grab the mic and rip it, meanwhile they stallin'. Let it be known, KRS is not about a gimmick. Representin' the street, concrete what I speak. Let me put my beeper on "vibrate" so we won't hear it beep. (That's a gimmick!) A'yo, that tongue-twistin' s***, that's kinda fresh! (That's a gimmick!) What's when you're soft, but you're frontin' like you're stressed? (That's a gimmick!) What's when you're only into rap to get paid? (That's a gimmick!) What's when you're yellin' and screamin' up on stage? (That's a gimmick!) When your career is numbered by days? (That's a gimmick!) What's when your lyrical style is just a phase? (That's a gimmick!) A-yes, yes, y'all, to the beat y'all, bring in the street.
(That's a gimmick!) You sell records based on how you dress. We gotta keep it real yo, no m****f***in' gimmicks! Whoever make a hit, they the best. You want any drama? You better wear plenty armor, I cut that a** like the chef at Benihana's. When I'm around, they all feel funny 'Cause I'm young, makin' funds like Shaquille O'Neal, money. They should go chill, they all mouth with no skills.
Talkin' how they be raggin' s*** When I don't know if them n***** are rappin' or talkin m****f***in' Arabic. But on the reel to reel, yo, they still soundin' half-a**ed Yellin' and screamin' like they got somethin' When they don't got nothin', so them n***** need to stop frontin'. Now rappers run scams and flim-flams On how they be gettin' loose when they rusty like the tin man. 'Cause if you ain't real, I'm bringin' it to your face like acne. I'm mad funky, ask the experts 'Cause I make ya bob ya head until your m****f***in' neck hurt. I don't fake moves, I scrape crews, I make brothers break fool. A'yo, I'm so dope, you better tap your man and tell him. In '95, we out jinglin', Servin' poetic justice wit'out that n**** John Singleton. 'Cause if you ai Check it out, come on, here's your chance to swing With some ill m****f****s, we don't dance and sing. Check it out, come on, here's your chance to swing With some ill m****f****s, we don't dance and sing.