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Boogie Down Productions ~ We In There


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! more free lyrics

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!

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