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Boogie Down Productions

Boogie Down Productions was a hip hop group that was originally composed of KRS-One, D-Nice, and DJ Scott La Rock. DJ Scott La Rock was murdered on August 27, 1987, months after the release of BDP's debut album, Criminal Minded. The name of the group, Boogie Down, derives from a nickname for the South Bronx section of The Bronx, one of the five boroughs of New York City. The group pioneered the fusion of dancehall reggae and hip hop music and their debut LP Criminal Minded contained frank descriptions of life in the South Bronx of the late 1980s thus setting the stage for what would eventually become gangsta rap. more »

Year:

1992

4:16

94 Views

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#1

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Ha ha  hah hah! Da doo doo doo  do doo 
You want to test me are you stupid? 
Gotta be out of your FUCKIN mind 
KRS One is the DON  seen? 
Come down Kenny Park ah!! 
Hahaha  you know 
I don't know what your management be tellin you 
I don't know what your producers be tellin you 
But yo  you step this way 
You're gettin PLAYED  out of position 
So let me give you a little style 
Check it out 
Everytime KRS-One steps in the jam 
The party is packed, he got the mic in his hand 
Brooklyn's ready Uptown's in the house 
Kenny drops the beat and we turn the party out 
That's it! None of the gimmicks, tricks, oh it's 
You either have the hits, or the crazy hype lyrics 
But MC's come half-assed, and lookin pitiful 
None of em lyrical but their ego is critical 
Like I said I'm not a Muslim but to Allah I'm obedient 
Some MC's on the mic become Muslims when it's convenient
And I've seen it! 
Real Muslims praise Allah, and they mean it 
Others are dreamin it with Sex Me and Do Me and 
I'd rather listen to the Brand Nubians 
You know it's funny everybody wants money 
And material things from cars and chicken wings 
When they sing, they sing for the cash 
They fail to realize, respect will outlast cash 
You get respect by bein creative 
And yes a native to your audience, so you know reality 
In other words, if you ain't a gangsta why play you a gangsta? 
If you ain't a hoe, why sell sex? 
If you believe in Allah, how is it you can only work when there's a 
Check? 

All of this is incorrect 
First should always come respect 
The charts are not equal to the respect of the people 
Their respect doesn't weeble or wobble 
They know the difference from an artist and a lip-syncin model 
Right on stage, you'll get a bottle 
You're-holding-my-dick-like-a-throttle 
I'm the freshest thing on the mic don't mess with me 
I'm fresher than your grandmother's fried chicken recipe 
Don't test me, you ain't a chemist and I sure ain't chemistry 
You're not a mathematician and my name ain't geometry 
You're no astronomer why see me as astronomy 
But I'm a Parker so I'll play you like Monopoly 
Don't entertain the thought of droppin me 
To think of me as anything less than your teacher 
Crazy you got to be 
These type of lyrical styles cannot be said sloppily 
I rip it up constantly 
You're-holding-my-dick-like-a-throttle 
The teacher will come, again and again and again and again 
To set the trend and lend to other men a perfect blend 
So-when-their-lyrics-finish-KRS-One-just-begin 
RIPPING up sucker teachers put their courage to an end 
So once again, the trendsetter comes a lot better 
Forever too clever for a petty MC in leather 
Whenever they decide, whatever I'm in sync 
The lyrics I write, help me think 
To guide ink off the paper through the air smack in your face 
And erase in haste the rhymes you embrace 
Just in case, get the F*CK out my face I run this place 
You're lucky you're from the same race 
A simple technique will keep you on beat 
With the style from the street you compete with the elite 
That's WEAK -- flashin gold and can't speak 
I seek the direction of the brown complexion 
So every year, I appear somewhere 
That you hear my dear to get one thing clear 
Whether on welfare or millionaire 
Don't step to this here or you outta here 
Allow me now to please change the gear 
And-pick-up-the-mic-you-missed-those-happen-around-me-have-me-feared, 
Come!? 

We come in the dance we haffa likka of a shot an towah? 
Let's get back to the hip-hop 
You come into the place you can't LOOK in my face 
'Cause the light is bright and I'm towering in height 
See there are millions of stars in the sky 
When the sun appears none are visible to the eye 
Why, the reason is the sun is the sun 
You can't possibly rock, until I'm done 
And finished, and like the evening I'll fade 
But when I return you'll cry for more shade 
So check the dancestyle cause I am not 
Softening up it's time that I rock and sing 
Not about my ding-a-ling-a-ling! 
But instead bring intellect pon ting 
'Cause you can inject ignorance in rap 
But Kenny Parker ain't tryin to hear that

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