Ya Slippin'

Now what you just heard, people, was a little kickin But let me tell you this while the clock is still tickin This is the warning, known as the caution: Do not attempt to dis, cause you'll soften Just like a pillow, or better yet a mattress You can't match this style or attack this While I'm telling you, write on schedule Fuck with K-R-S and I'll bury you Deep in the dirt, or sand with a shovel No fight, no scurry, or scuffle, just muffle Total domination on stage Kris is the name, 22 is the age Those that wanna battle, I know who you are You got a little girl, you drive a little car You come into the place with that look on your face Before you ran the mile, you lost the race So assume you're doomed when you step in the room I'll be the witch and you'll be the broom I'll ride you, guide you into the concrete I'll slide you to a funky beat So what do we have here? A sucka in fear I snatched your heart Put it way up on the chart At ten you're fucked At nine you suck At eight you're a sucker At seven-a mothafucka At six you're slapped At five you're just wacked At four you're lost At three, you're just soft At two you're an ass At one, you're a dick But before you slip, I'll whip Cuz homeboy, ya slippin' I understand that music calms the savage beast But keep in mind that I compose my music piece by piece First a bass, a snare A little cut over there I add my name K-R-S And the shit becomes fresh I ask Moe and ICU for their thoughts Lay it down at Power Play all the suckas are taught One again, the tactics of original arts We're gettin' payed to the end cuz we were down from the start We're known as Boogie Down Productions, ain't no B-boy stance Guaranteed to make ya dance, if you give us a chance We're goin' off and of course all ya suckas are lost You wanna hear a fresh rhyme? You've come to the source Because I'm the type of guy who's not put up on a pedestal Run my rhyme on time and on schedule One after another, another to the next Can't rhyme when you're tense, or your muscles won't flex Check your larynx It may get lower havin' sex Or may get higher When bustin' as a liar These are the things I teach so be taught To me you're kinda short, how many battles have you fought? If you come up with a number, notebook, or list It just doesn't matter, you can still get dissed I'm bringin' back that ol' New York rap That gets you jacked while you're hands still clap It's funny Just dissin' you I can make money But no one's tippin' My message is simple: Ya' slippin! E-N-O, S-R-K When you go through other albums, you're sure to say "Goddamn, they all seem to sound alike!" Till you hear the crew standin' over in the light Showing, glowing, on the top growing The lyrics keep flowing and flowing and just flowing Just like a river, or better yet a stream I'm proud to be down with the winning team So don't ever in your life even think about a arguement Cuz you'll get walked on like carpet We'll pick you up, and dust you off Stamp BDP on your head and you're off But you would even change that to say instead "I'm down cuz I got a BDP on my head!" So just before you inherit that ass kicking I suggest you wake right up cuz ya slippin'