Dope Beat - Boogie Down Productions

My name is that top of all of those that mix

Turnin poetry into cash for eighty … seven

Some did it got paid, some jams were never played

But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade

Go by, and why?

Cos they wasn’t fly

Others claim to be fresh

But they’re not KRS

I cannot walk around the street with my head in the clouds

Either runnin on my gear or havin colors too loud

Everything must coincide with the way I feel

And by the way, it’s Scott LaRock on the wheels of steel

So I take one step to adjust the mic

I get around the whole city so I do wear Nike

I like the funky beat

A studio like to meet

I write the crazy fresh lyrics

And I don’t eat meat

You can look me up and down, and my DJ too

Because we make up the Boogie Down Productions crew

Takin out MC’s on the 1, 2, 3

No matter who they claim to be in society

Because we know their games, we?

appall their?

???

If they need a different style we can get?

large?

He’s I.C.U., he’s out to kill

I’m KRS and we get ill

DJ Scott LaRock got his own beat

The extravagant life is what we seek

I will tell you like this cos I know for a fact

I will live a long life and I don’t smoke crack

Captivatin the crowd 7 days a week

You know what they told me to say?

I got the dope beat

For me to say again another verse of my rhyme

Means what you heard before must’ve blew up your mind

So now it’s time to find poetry like mine

Do not waste all your time because I’m one-of-a-kind

Pullin out, easy goin cos the money be flowin

6'4, brown eyes, and I’m always showin

Stupid MC’s on the mic the way it 'posed to be done

?They?

study rhymes all week but I be rhymin for fun

When they lose they get upset, ?always?

pullin a gun

But they will snap out of that because I’m KRS-One

Not two, not three, but o-n-e

Get it right the first time I won’t repeat this rhyme

If you think that you can burn me with your amateur ways

Keep in mind that I been out there from back in the days

I don’t brag about the people I know

Because they’re still bluffin, they’re not givin me nuthin

I can walk around the city with the rhymes I flaunt

Cos no matter how you front it’s still the ones you want

See, I am funky fresh and poetry is my opinion

Takin out you suckas while Scott LaRock is spinnin

My name is KRS-One, I’m still kinda young

I don’t wear Adidas cos my name ain’t Run

Got Nikes on my feet and to be complete

I can rock an American or reggae beat

Got rhymes for 70's, 80's, and 90's

Not bein conceited but it won’t pay to try me Out to any feud, any battle, any reason

Make the rhymes up every season, this style, I’m just teasin

Pick up the pace, homeboy, pick up the pace

You’re way behind schedule, listen to what I’m tellin you

This particular style may vary,

The things I converse about are heard rarely

Some can’t bear me, others try to scare me Soundin intelligent but not yet equivalent

You know what?

I.C.U.

is in the house…

Miss Melodie is in the house…

?Lena?

Love is in the house…

D-Nice rocks the house…

?Gold Miss?

???

rocks the house…

Flavis Walker turns em out…

?42 Black?

knocks em out…

Til my mellow pulled his gun, rock the house…

?Naughty?

bust it out…

McBoo turns it out…

Chuck Chillout cuts it up…

Red Alert breaks it out…

Scott LaRock Jr. my pride and joy…

KRS-One

His mother’s first son

And no?

he can?

never run…

?BD…

?BD…

Scott LaRock…

Scott LaRock