Lyrics:
you're gettin' fucked out your green by a white boy
With no Vaseline
("Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline")
("Now you're gettin' done without
my doo
the ice-cream had it coming
na so she dey hola my name
everyday by day as i pass road by
60 Wrap$$
60 Wrap$$
ya formal introduction
i am star
1-2 1-2
I am the dominating Fresh Kid Ice
And I am the Brother Marquis, Marquis your brother
And introducing to you on the two turntables:
strap up because you skatin on ice that's wild thin
A weak foundation doesn't make a good home
That's why mine is built on chrome microphones
We bout
and lick it
Ice Cube is a thing of the past
If I got no nuts it's because they're still stuck in your ass
You're the King of punks
King of busters
King
They can use they dick for a pencil
I'm known for snatchin' purses
And bombin' churches
I get more pussy by accident than
Most niggas get on purpose
I
slow
And for show y'all know
Misdemeanor got 'em by the neck low
Ice cold heart like zero below
If you wanna battle me then playa say so
[Chorus]
Fresh off the Garden picked by my mama
You rappers getting rotten you need some manure
I dont wear designer clothes Im comfy in Pyjamas
I dont really
they're complex
I'll tie a duck MC up and pour acid down his lyranex
Chased by Him because his was his beginning
Federal Bureau couldn't even figure
Let's take it to the stage sucker!
It's the E and I'm smoking.
Wild like Tone Loc I'm roasting, bakin' MCs
The E I'm not joking so back up
rhymes that are mostly illegal, MC's spit rhymes to uplift they people
Peace, love, unity, and having fun, these are the lyrics of KRS One
enough car factories to manufacture new vehicles sedans and vans
When they do make the whip you like ya chips ain't right,
By the time you could afford
Right about now, NWA court is in full effect
Judge Dre presidin'
In the case of NWA versus the police department
The prosecution attorneys are M.C
something like that
Alright, let's kick this shit on the one, kick it
Back by demand, now it's big as fuck
Because you as the public, you should know
make the game better, by bein out there on the floor
So when you ice grill me, instead of breakin your jaw
I think FIREBALLS in your face like a young
attacked like seven maniacs with wooden bats
Daily evidence I erase, can't be traced by jakes
Nucleic niggas from the mind penetrate the star gate
MC's found
Or get beat to your death like cochise,
My laws is no peace, fuck the police.
M-C's get braggin' about cash they collect,
But them chumps is like ray
style, I'm still *mini, money, mini, mini,
It aint all about the money*
[Verse 1]
When I was hustla, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs
in the pocket with the 9
Roll up the whole dime, as my seats recline
I want a presidential Roley, so I crush MC's to guacamole
Makin Robin scream,
so I crush MC's to guacamole
Makin' Robin scream, "holy moley!"
Big Poppa, fuck a cape I'm that Paper Crusader
Playin' Sega in the wide body Blazer
and you know she hella thick
Don't too many bitches really know me by my government
Stay down till we up then we going be hella rich
Got my dreams coming
the two MC's with all the skill
We're down by law, and we know the deal
There's only one thing we do, and we do it right
To believe in a hip-hop lifestyle that agrees with us
No squeeze or bust, bo, bo, you find ease with us
The DJ's, the MC's is us
The ice we've seen enough
I'm the bomb, ringing off all types alarms
My palms, be swift with the pen like Lynn Swann's
Aggravated assault, against an MC
Beat him down with
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