Song | We In There |
Artist | Boogie Down Productions |
Album | Sex & Violence |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Yeah.. ahh, back to that old shit! | |
For all you fake-ass teachers out there | |
Aiyyo kris.. break this shit up! | |
[krs-one] | |
The type of lyrical terrorism i present | |
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent | |
You've been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters | |
When the suckers stepped up, i had to use the drastic measures | |
I know you want to step to me kid! | |
But you're thinkin, "damn, kris is kinda big!" | |
Plus he rolls wit a crew that don't care | |
And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year | |
From your eye drops a tear | |
I don't play that shit, i play that hit | |
Your whole gangsta image is not legit | |
You heard _criminal minded_, and bit the whole shit | |
Now if i punch you in your face i'd be wrong | |
Don't even think about battling with a song | |
You'll be gone, your career ain't strong enough to call my bluff | |
You ain't rough, you ain't tough, you'll be handcuffed | |
With your ribcage crushed | |
Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks | |
You know my fuckin name | |
Blastmaster krs is thinkin long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (repeat 4x) | |
[krs-one] | |
They are in there, like you'll soon be in prison | |
(you await and this is faggot, your ass you'll be given) | |
Who you kiddin? you're only tryin to rock a party | |
You ain't really down to shoot nobody | |
So why you frontin? sayin from the cops you be runnin | |
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning | |
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl | |
Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named lionel | |
In jail you ain't got respect | |
You a fairy, i'll be takin your commisary | |
And the picture of your sister, mister | |
As seamy as pee-wee herman, i ain't trying to diss her | |
This ain't no bullshit game and i ain't changed | |
I'm just thinkin long range | |
People died so i can rhyme.. | |
You think i'm gonna grab the mic and waste my nation's time? | |
Step up with that weak shit | |
You're psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick | |
Plus you're on my dick | |
Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain't correct | |
You know my fuckin name! | |
Blastmaster krs is thinking long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah (*repeats*) | |
Krs.. kenny parker.. willie d.. from long island | |
Heather b.. ska-danks.. | |
D-square.. sidney mills.. | |
Ha-ohhhh.. go brooklyn, go brooklyn! | |
Go bronx! (go brooklyn, go brooklyn!) | |
The bronx! yell southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx, arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! |
Yeah.. ahh, back to that old shit! | |
For all you fakeass teachers out there | |
Aiyyo kris.. break this shit up! | |
krsone | |
The type of lyrical terrorism i present | |
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent | |
You' ve been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters | |
When the suckers stepped up, i had to use the drastic measures | |
I know you want to step to me kid! | |
But you' re thinkin, " damn, kris is kinda big!" | |
Plus he rolls wit a crew that don' t care | |
And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year | |
From your eye drops a tear | |
I don' t play that shit, i play that hit | |
Your whole gangsta image is not legit | |
You heard _criminal minded_, and bit the whole shit | |
Now if i punch you in your face i' d be wrong | |
Don' t even think about battling with a song | |
You' ll be gone, your career ain' t strong enough to call my bluff | |
You ain' t rough, you ain' t tough, you' ll be handcuffed | |
With your ribcage crushed | |
Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks | |
You know my fuckin name | |
Blastmaster krs is thinkin long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah repeat 4x | |
krsone | |
They are in there, like you' ll soon be in prison | |
you await and this is faggot, your ass you' ll be given | |
Who you kiddin? you' re only tryin to rock a party | |
You ain' t really down to shoot nobody | |
So why you frontin? sayin from the cops you be runnin | |
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning | |
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl | |
Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named lionel | |
In jail you ain' t got respect | |
You a fairy, i' ll be takin your commisary | |
And the picture of your sister, mister | |
As seamy as peewee herman, i ain' t trying to diss her | |
This ain' t no bullshit game and i ain' t changed | |
I' m just thinkin long range | |
People died so i can rhyme.. | |
You think i' m gonna grab the mic and waste my nation' s time? | |
Step up with that weak shit | |
You' re psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick | |
Plus you' re on my dick | |
Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain' t correct | |
You know my fuckin name! | |
Blastmaster krs is thinking long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah repeats | |
Krs.. kenny parker.. willie d.. from long island | |
Heather b.. skadanks.. | |
Dsquare.. sidney mills.. | |
Haohhhh.. go brooklyn, go brooklyn! | |
Go bronx! go brooklyn, go brooklyn! | |
The bronx! yell southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx, arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! |
Yeah.. ahh, back to that old shit! | |
For all you fakeass teachers out there | |
Aiyyo kris.. break this shit up! | |
krsone | |
The type of lyrical terrorism i present | |
Educates people, at the same time pays my rent | |
You' ve been hearin me now for the past twelve semesters | |
When the suckers stepped up, i had to use the drastic measures | |
I know you want to step to me kid! | |
But you' re thinkin, " damn, kris is kinda big!" | |
Plus he rolls wit a crew that don' t care | |
And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year | |
From your eye drops a tear | |
I don' t play that shit, i play that hit | |
Your whole gangsta image is not legit | |
You heard _criminal minded_, and bit the whole shit | |
Now if i punch you in your face i' d be wrong | |
Don' t even think about battling with a song | |
You' ll be gone, your career ain' t strong enough to call my bluff | |
You ain' t rough, you ain' t tough, you' ll be handcuffed | |
With your ribcage crushed | |
Naked in a box, with multicolored tube socks | |
You know my fuckin name | |
Blastmaster krs is thinkin long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah repeat 4x | |
krsone | |
They are in there, like you' ll soon be in prison | |
you await and this is faggot, your ass you' ll be given | |
Who you kiddin? you' re only tryin to rock a party | |
You ain' t really down to shoot nobody | |
So why you frontin? sayin from the cops you be runnin | |
In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning | |
You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl | |
Until your ass is bein pumped by some faggot named lionel | |
In jail you ain' t got respect | |
You a fairy, i' ll be takin your commisary | |
And the picture of your sister, mister | |
As seamy as peewee herman, i ain' t trying to diss her | |
This ain' t no bullshit game and i ain' t changed | |
I' m just thinkin long range | |
People died so i can rhyme.. | |
You think i' m gonna grab the mic and waste my nation' s time? | |
Step up with that weak shit | |
You' re psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick | |
Plus you' re on my dick | |
Changin the subject, your rhyme style ain' t correct | |
You know my fuckin name! | |
Blastmaster krs is thinking long range! | |
Yeah we in there, yeah yeah repeats | |
Krs.. kenny parker.. willie d.. from long island | |
Heather b.. skadanks.. | |
Dsquare.. sidney mills.. | |
Haohhhh.. go brooklyn, go brooklyn! | |
Go bronx! go brooklyn, go brooklyn! | |
The bronx! yell southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx! southside bronx! | |
Southside bronx, arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh! |