Wannabemceez (feat. Mad Lion)

One two, testing one two

Alright, party people in the place to be

The party has already started

An-an-an-and it's about to il-il-il-ill

Let me introduce you to another type of rapper MC

Where glamour and glitter don't matter, gently

I'm tired of the Chattanooga empty

Classical like a German Luger

Deep like a tuba, scuba dive, and ooh, in lava, hyper

Like I said before my radar's going, bibbit, bibbit

The microphone, I grip-it grip-it, lyric, lyric, I live it

Hear it, my spirit is where it should be

Don't push me if you pussy, huh

I spot 'em, it seems you want to ride the dillz

I got em, KRS got skills in the place

I waste megahertz of bass bottom, chill

As I rock 'em and get ill, I build the perfect spot to kill

Verbal excitement will lead to your indictment

Whether or not you like it, still, number one, I hype it

Your album, rewrite it

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

Triplet syllables for minimal criminals

Lyrical riddles that got hard flavors in the middle

Sit back and chittle as I, standing still, rebuild on skills

The admission of serial lyrics, calculated to weaken the spirit

Will be diverted by this lyric, when you hear it

Ricochet any style any day

Any which way and you'll Cherish the Day like Sade

The advanced oratorical techniques I speak

Keep the heat at full peak, my grammar

With stamina, grabs a rapper like the fresh catch of the day

And crack the back of that DJ

I'm strappin' and attackin' a pack

And whatever happens after that just happens, fact

Flamboyant and flashy is one point in time when you're not ashy

Focus on the syllable formats and the cash, G

G for guard your grill, I'm hard to kill

Odd but ill, a job to fill is to refill on skill

We built and killed style and skill

While poetically reprimanding you like a child, I will

Get ill, and switch to earn

'Cause I prefer to slur but not blur

Blurring, you're stirring up trouble, surely you don't need it

Be seated, I'm undefeated, them not see it

Observe me, then beat it

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

Let's get back to the point quickly, get with me

The voice from New York City is too witty

I come from a era of OJ cars, Latin Quarter

Fake Gucci and fake Fendi, you can't send me

Nowhere that I ain't been to

You can't tell me nothin' that I ain't been through

Disrespect the teacher, I gots to get you

'Cause they can't MC

But what you really sayin'?

You sound like a bitch-ass rapper when he's saying

"Yo, Kris you hit too hard, stop playing"

Switching and swaying

Day in and day out, your styles are played out, see you way out

Before you're laid out, your bright lights start to fade out

The last thing you heard is, "Who let the K out?"

No gray area

Everything is black and white, we took the gray out, it's scarier

Either you're winnin' or losin, spinnin' a rules of conscience

But lyrically there ain't no stoppin'

I'm droppin' a lot in your noggin'

'Cause I know that you're lyrically starvin'

Carvin' your name, battle, battle

Everybody wants to battle but you babble

Who knows ya, battlin' me, is the only way that you can gain exposure?

I feel for ya soldier

I hate to say it but I told ya so

You know that I know the ancient flow KRS-One

Is the holder of a boulder, yo, money folder, yo

You want a fresh style, let me show you slow

Your blow, I'm not your foe

Battling me? No, no, no, no, no, no, no

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

How many MC's, wannabemceez

Never be MC's, 'cause they can't MC

If a DJ think he man he better prepare for war

BDP crew get up in that ass like a piece of toilet tissue

General Lion, I chase them all and I am on fire

Represent the hardest crew, you know how we do

Anything test, dead, gun shot to them head

Go on