I Got Next

Welcome to hip-hop culture
Where dj-ing, mc-ing, graffiti art, breaking
And the philosophies are expressed everyday
Within the inner cities of america, and the world
You are not doing hip-hop
You are hip-hop
Love yourself and your expression, you can't go wrong

But am i over ya head?
Am i over ya head?
But am i over ya head?
Yo am i over ya head?
But am i over ya head?
Am i over ya head?
Well am i over ya head?
Yo am i over ya head?

Huh? what? where? who?
What? whattyathinkinabout
When who says what when how
You can't maybe follow my style
You be the child, i be the teacher
Smile, who said when, what
Mouth not shut, what?
Whenever however whenever
Whatever the cut
How you maybe could you ever
Believe, that you could so quickly achieve
These crafts, please laugh at his stupid ass
Upon your knees in glass
You lust, for everything but trust
So we bust back, with conciously charged art
With a mic instead of a brush

But am i over ya head?
Am i over ya head?
But am i over ya head?
Yo am i over ya head?
Am i over ya head?
Yo am i over your head?
Yo am i over ya head?
Listen..

Yes, us must trust us, who? us must trust
Not fuss with us, us must trust us discuss trusting us
Us must trust us, who? us must trust
Not fuss with us, us must trust us discuss thus trusting us
Trusting us, us must trust discuss
Discuss not trusting us must not fuss
Us with us means us discussing trusting us
Us must trust us, who? us must trust
Not fuss with us, us must dicuss trusting us

But am i over ya head?
Yo am i over your head?
But am i over ya head?

For those interested in higher knowledge
On issues of health, wealth, and self-mastery
You are urged to register with the temple of hip-hop
By filling out the attached registration form and questionnaire
Located on the album's pull-out panel
And here now, another krs classic

* unlisted bonus track on compact disc

Intro: puff daddy

I'ma make you dance
And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 3x)
Don't stop
Krs-one
Puff daddy
Bad boy remix
Hit me baby

Verse one: puff daddy, krs-one

Hear the sound of my money machine
See the 600 benz see the chrome rims gleam
See the teacher krs and the puff daddy
See the young black and famous rich like matty
With the power and the knowledge at our fingertips
With a style make the ladies wanna lick they lips, shake they hips
Shake they rumps, bass thump
Believin they could fly by the way you jump, player, uhh
Hip-hop mayor, fat rhyme sayer
From the boogie down to the himilayas i'm

Comentating (say what?) illustrating (yeah)
Descriptions given, adjective expert (i hear you)
Let's work, til your neck hurt (oooh)
Like bedwork i rock steady, you ain't really ready
For the teacher, just when you thought you had me licked
I come equipped with another hit, oh shit!
(i hear you, i hear you, i hear you, i hear you)

Chorus:

And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4x)
Step into a world, where there's no one left
But the very best, no mc can test

Step into a world, where there's no one left
But the very best, no mc can test

Verse two: puff daddy

Politic with the teacher (c'mon) as the hits reach ya
Puff daddy and krs-one, double feature (that's right)
Uptown diplomats, watch chips get stacked
So-and-so, this and that (uhh)
Just 'show me the money!' ain't nuttin funny (uh-huh)
Have you stuck on stupid broke feelin crummy (ahah)
Ain't no time for girl 6
Cause i got a ten, holdin my stack of big benz
Correographer causin your funky dope maneuver (say what?)
Bad boy represent, keep it sewer
Killin you softly wit my song
Call from the heist, i know y'all better think twice (what?)
About the still number one (uh-huh) south south bronx (say what?)
At the latin quarter, dancin witcha daughter (ooh!)
You can't handle me, i keep it tight
With my bad boy family, that's right

Chorus:

And we won't stop, cause we can't stop (repeat 4x)
Step into a world, where there's no one left
But the very best, no mc can test

Verse three: krs-one

Uhh, uhh, south bronx
You sitin and you wonderin, how we keep it comin in
Krs and puff again to push it, and shove it in (that's right)
The neighborhood be buggin when we we comin in, rulin
(with more wildcats than rick pitino, i mean yo)
Just coolin', like levert, i do work
They love me, thick with g. simone, puffy
Young black and educated, that's how we made it (oh yeah)
Study and bring the money in, you can't fade it
This scholar, gets the dollars
While these other scholars just holler (remix)
With no dinero, your zero (remix)
You think i care what you whisper
You got the wrong picture (remix)
I'm chillin with g. simone eatin dinner (haha)
The 1997 winner, of your respect
High tech, you get the album or cassette (that's right)
And don't forget, while you listenin, skills i flaunt it
That boogie down bronx shit, we on it

[puffy]
Scott larock rest in peace, biggie smalls rest in peace
Step into a world
We love y'all, always and forever, and we won't stop
Where there's no one left
Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop
Where the very best
Bdp, bad boy
No mc can test

Cause we can't stop, and we won't stop (repeat 4x)
Step into a world, where there's no one left
But the very best, no mc can test
(repeat last refrain to fade)

Rock on, bad boy, remix, for eternity baby, bdp rock on rock on...

Right now as we rockin they shootin outside
Now we have got to chill
We have got to chill
We can't have no gunfire because hip-hop can't build

Let's leave all the shootin and the violence outside
I know there's some people in here, armed to the teeth
But understand...
It is the conciousness behind the gun
That determines if the gun is positive or negative
So let's not blame it on no pistols, no guns, no gats
Let's blame it on the conciousness of the mind holding the gat

Who am i? the mc, la-di da-di
I don't wear versace, i wear dj's out quickly at the party
Who am i? if you're like me hip hop is in your body
Who am i? the mc!
When the jam is slow and you need a proceeder
Who am i? the mc!
When you need a lyrical leader wit oratorical triple features
Who am i? the mc!
When you need to rock your 3000-seat arena, best believe, uh
Who am i? the mc!
When you need to get the word on the street wit demeanor
Who am i? the mc!
I beg thee, let me splurt rhymes, i have plenty
Who am i? the mc! lord have mercy
I hit sudden like hersey
Always new like jersey, stay thirsty
Who am i? the mc!
Showin my authority, superiority
An artistic minority, now you startin me
Cuz party philosophy can only be carried out by
Who am i? the mc!
No doubt, predicting far ahead what will set the party off immensely
With plenty of who? the mc!
Trained at rooftop, red zone, roxy and bentley's
Who am i? the mc!
Gently move crowds with harmonious rhythm
Cuz the lyrics we give em they miss em
Who am i? the mc! again, the mc!
Her infinite power helps, oppressed people sent me to tell you
If you truly study lyrical flows and stay on your toes you will be
Who am i? the mc!
And as an mc you will study verbal magic
But watch what you say cuz you'll attract it
Control your subconscious magnet from pullin in havoc
Who am i? the mc!
Non-stoppin mc, hip hoppin mc
Verbal rockin, head knockin, quick droppin mc
I laugh cuz i mastered the craft mc
In sound clash i'm the first and last mc
It's sort of like jim carrey throwin that mask to me
I black out and wake up to catastrophe
3 mc's dead from the sound blowin out massively, wow!
Who am i? the mc!
Untouchable, can't be caught off guard with fast tracks or slow tracks
Ass cracks get waxed to the max, mc's pack raps for all tracks
Indigenous cultures, asians, whites and blacks
Never missed it the linguistic of
Who am i? the mc!
Meta-lyrical poetic mystic mc
Hearin the voice of an ancient spirit mc
Premeditated worder
Killin negative concepts out the mind of the observer mc
You deserve a break from counterfeits, frauds and fakes
Claimin to be an mc for heaven sakes
Well, this mc done raised the stakes
Under the stress from krs
Contracts and mental gats are bound to break
Who am i? the mc! again the mc!
Conduct yourselves properly mc...

open a de herb gate sellin pure ganja
Babylon come but they undercova
They never really want me to stop sell ganja
(they just want to take a cut of what you make so far)
But im not having it, i load the slr
Pack thje ganja boom they break down the door
Ha-ha, 2 shots exchange at close range
Out of 3 babylon, hit one in the brain
Ha-ha, 2 shots hit the window pane
I exchange 4 shots, i drop and feel pain
But im not hit, into the bathroom i crawl
I look out the window its a one storey fall
Im fallin, hit the ground and start crawlin
Instead im walkin round and blendin in wit the crowd
Another day, i gotta way, i gotta fix this problem someday
But the very next day...

Chorus >repeat *2
Can stop wont stop sellin mad izm
All comeptition i gots to get wit em
Me nah go jail and me nah go prison
(take it to his face kid dis em)

Im in another herb gate like a superstar
11:am things are safe so far

I used to worry about the competition on the block
But now the competition on the block is the cops
And even blackwatch doesn't know where we lay
Well..(open up its the d.e.a.)
Ah man, just when i went for more led
The door opens up i've got a glock to my forehead
Wit nowhere to escape, i thought i was dead
But i woke up instead in a cell on my bed
I lay back down, then i heard a crack sound
2 d.t.'s came in and layed they glocks down
One was whistlin a love song, he put some gloves on
I thought to myself, damn somethings wrong
Boom bap, boom bap against my head
I fell back on my bed, down to his feet
The pain was insane but the hit was sweet
Cuz these dumb ass cops punched me right by the heat
The glock, 2 shots, 3 shots they screamin
Then someone said..(ay wake up kid your dreamin)
I said what dreamin, that nightmare was hell
But as i look around, i was still in my cell
Damn i got myself caught up in a jam
The d.t. that woke me up was like what
I wiped the saliva off my mouth
Then the d.t. said..(lets make a deal)
No doubt no question, now started up the session
No need for guessin, yes they want my supplier
I said, what makes you think theres anyone higher
He said..(dont be a god damned lier)
You killed 3 d.t.'s yesterday you heard me
But still the cops you knocked off, yea was dirty
Now the whole investigation is federal
We want you to point out the rest of the cops that are criminal
He continued to say you cant think it thru
This whole drug game is bigger than you
Follow our plan man and you'll be free
Let me explain one thing so you can see
We....

Chorus

Now im back in the herb gate all wired up
Constantly thinkin about being tied up
Snap out of it, im thinkin damn we like l's
The federal and local cops got laws wit themselves
And im in the middle and cant solve the riddle
My nose is runny {knock of door}..(let me get a 20)
A 20 of the green or a 20 of the brown
Give me the whole brown clown or duck down {gunshots}
God damn, god damn, here we go again
But this time im set up by my federal friends
Suddenly i hear (yo move from the door) {gunshot}
Followed by the shots sounded like the 4-4 {gunshot}
After the violence, then there was silence
Then i heard (ah yo its us, open up the door)
But rule number one, in this game is self reliance
So i pickd up the mini mac incase they wanted more
The door opened up, the feds said what up
They was stickin you up, so they had to get bucked
Suddenly a sense of trust came over me
Thought to myself.. .well soon i'll be free
But as i turned around i heard the gun go click
I said wait...but it was too late {gunshot}

Intro/chorus: sung to the tune of blondie's "rapture"

Step into a world (klaka klaka, klaka klaka!)
Where there's no one left (buku, buku! alla de massive!)
But the very best (klaka, bo bo, bdp crew, bo bo bo bo!)
No mc can test *cut and scratch of krs saying "but one"*
Step into a world, where hip-hop is me
Where mc's and dj's
Build up their skills as they play every day
For the, rapture

Yeah, what what!
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Verse one:

I'm bout to hit you wit that tradional style of cold rockin
Givin options for head knockin non stoppin
Tip-toppin lyrics we droppin but styles can be forgotten
So we bring back the raw hip-hoppin
Just like the records and tapes you be coppin
Cop some breakdancin, boogie poppin, and lockin
Tic tockin, guaranteed to have you clockin
We only get better and only better we have gotten
This type of flow don't even think about stoppin
Beware, the length of the rhyme flow can be shockin
All music lovers in the place right now
That never understood the way that krs got down
Yo i'm strictly about skills and dope lyrical coastin
Relying on talent, not marketing and promotion
If a dope lyrical flow is a must
You gots to go with a name you can quickly trust
I'm not sayin i'm number one, uhh i'm sorry, i lied
I'm number one, two, three, four and five
Stop wastin your money on marketing schemes
And pretty packages pushin dreams to the beams
A dope mc is a dope mc
With or witout a record deal, all can see
And that's who krs be son
I'm not the run of mill, cause for the mill i don't run

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Chorus

Verse two:

Yeah, yeah
Everybody on the mic in the party sound alike
Until i recite, in black and white what's right
Let me take flight, my style is tight an good
Tight an good, come is it tight an good
Old styles i pass dat, slow down on fast rap
All in yo' ass crack, old king go blast dat
Conjure to ask dat, hyper type of flashback
I publish like ascap lyrics for hand clap
No past rappin, youth trackin, talent lackin
Mc's more worried about their financial backin
Steady packin a gat as if something's gonna happen
But it doesn't, they wind up shootin they cousin, they buggin
I appear everywhere and nowhere at once
I know my style is bumpin, even though some people front
It's the god of rap, you heard of it
The one that rhymes toward the sky givin airplanes mad turbulence
In rap tournaments, i reign permanent
Don't you think by now the number one spot i'm not concerned with it
The course of rap i'm turnin it
Back to that good old fashioned way of getting cash money by earning it
No bogus hocus pocus, i bring back to focus
Skills if you notice my position is lotus
Now quote this, mc's are just hopeless
Thinkin record sales make them the dopest

Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!
Yes yes y'all, ya don't stop, krs-one, rock on!

Chorus

It's meant to be evidently
When i rock so eloquently
Put the beat on and let me
Kill another wack emcee
Can't trust them, never test me
I practice and study
But i'm not in it for the money
But to me they look so funny
You can't test the teacher
The teacher won't reach intact
Through the speaker you're weaker, now sit your ass in the back
My lyrical you hear it, you fear it, you can't get near it
Cause the spirit eat eric
And eric your rhymes is wack
Like that, that, right back

Check it out!

Check it like this
Just skills you know you gots to build just skills
*a phone is dialed a man says hello and a woman starts speaking in
Spanish*
You know you gots to build just skills, uh come on get down
Just skills you know we got to build just skills, come on get down

Yeah, uh come on
I got that rip track, flip that, underground rap
When i kick back
Most of what i'm hearin be weak
So i speak through beats and the streets as i teach
I impeach, through speech, each lyric leech i reach
Have a seat in the lecture
Nothin can protect you
Hard is the texture
Of the mic wreckin rock in your sector
Better than ever remember i am no beginner
I like to shout out eric skinner
Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down
Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down
Yo, we livin in a world of private jets and limousine
The fruit we eatin as we prepare tangerine to nectarine
See everybody livin in the same routine
We need the telephone, and yes, we need the fax machine
You listen to the sound, well i think you know it's me
Now, let me educate you with my concious poetry
Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
Me love, me love, me love, me love, me love it when it's bad
See if you wack rap you ought be steppin out the back
See emcees on the microphone forgettin that they black
See hear them kick the lyrics that are holdin people back
But when you hear the teacher, krs will find the track
You bound to see the light, and you don't want return back
So listen very closely to the secret scientist
I'm sending this one out to all my inner city kids
Now you supposed to be apostle what you have inside your head
Can make you more reliable, it can make you feel dead
Now listen very closely to the way i say this rhyme
It's the thing called the brain, and the thing called the mind
But i'm outta time

Chorus (scratching on the word "can"):
Can i tell them that i really never had a gun?
No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done!
Can i tell them that i really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?
Can i tell them that i really never had a gun?
No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done!
Can i tell them that i really never had a gun
Never had a gun, never had a gun?

On the block you just yap a whole lot
About the clothes that you got
Yo, or the gold that you got
Everybody sees all the friends in your benz, yo, it's fat
But they ain't gettin money like that
Word to my brother kenny, jealous one envy
The rich are few, while the poor, many
But you got gold cuffs and cars and stuff
You eatin well, but still in the ghetto you dwell
You know it's hot, so you make it known about your glock
To any perpetrator tryin to blow up your spot
You grab the microphone and talk a good ramble
You the hardcore outlaw, criminal, vandal
Burnin emcees like a candle, but you frontin
You ain't got nothin, with your life you gamble
One day you gamble up snake eyes
Talkin all that junk about you don't take dives, you take lives
Nobody on the block tries, cause you claim you got powerful ties
So at the red light you arrive
And to your surprise you get heffed up with just two steak knives
You're terrified, they take your benz, and what makes things worse
You ain't got gun the first

Chorus