I hear the same old rhyme, the same old style
The same old runner has ran the mile
See I don´t know exactly what you know
But what I know is that stuff gotta go
Usually when I pick up the mic

Something ill jumps out my mouth for that night
I like to talk about fact not fiction
I got some fantasy rhymes but just listen
Everything I write is premeditated
Suckers wanna fake it, I just hate it
Biting routines or saying something kinda weak
My words are comprehended every time I speak
I have spoken, no I´m not joking
Please don´t sleep, I hope you are awoken
Stop! Try this again, you had enough? Say when
I am the man with the six-pack of Heineken
I get tipsy
But never in your  try to dis me
Cos I don´t battle with rhymes, I battle with guns
Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone
If you take the first letter of what I just sung
You spell my name KRS One

It´

DJ Scott LaRock and I, KRS One
A mother´s first son and no, we´ll never run
From complex situations like you T-O-Y-S´s
Always talking junk, yet in jail, you´re rocking dresses
I have a ride for the purpose of joy
Unlike any ordinary Bronx B-Bboy
I will volunteer my services and launch an attack
On you fake  with your yakety-yak
This is a fact, the teacher is here now in the flesh
Consistently hounded by you MC pests
If you really want to learn from me
Don´t waste time in burning me
Cos ignorance and inexperience does not concern me

I will emphasize so you will realize and come alive
Never close your eyes, never sleep or you might take a dive
Many people hate me, many people love me
Some are far below me
And you know there´s some above me
But this, my hypothesis, to conclude the story
All you fake MC´s on a mission, you bore me
I´m the Blastmaster KRS on the mic
Watching all these females rock their pants too tight
Cos there´s no other creative  on display
To give a full analysis and rock this way
You will pay, eventually you all will decay
While the DJ Scott LaRock will continue to play
records, , and you´ll know who we are
Make a mix just for kicks

And you´ll be on our tip
And, oh yes, there´s a highlight to the show, of course
You hear DJ Scott La Rock (Go off! Go off!)

Boogie Down Productions, no  to its title
If you have a , toys, go and take a Midol
We have arrived for the purpose of enjoyment
You have arrived to make up for unemployment
You´re on it only cos I learned just how to flaunt it
I breathed a rhyme upon you like a sickness and you caught it quick
Get off the tip, trick, you must be sick
Like a doctor here´s my bill, I wrote it out with a Bic
Signed my name upon the bottle cos you know I just rocked ´em

But getting into battles really isn´t my thing
You´re probably thinking these are the rhymes for the century
But please don´t mention me, it´s only elementary