The number one set and sound...live! Ghetto Music. Produced by
KRS-One

Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye

Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye

Come in!

Many have claimed to attain levels in rhymin´
But when I listen to ´em I see they´re only lyin´
They´re tryin´, but after some years if you ain´t got it
Lay it down, put it down, find a way to try and stop it
Or change it, rearrange it, be a producer
Don´t touch the microphone because you´ll always be the loser
And laughed at, smirked on, you don´t belong
With those that perform their song on and on
And on and on and on, yo, let´s get specific
This style is for the gifted, poetically uplifted
I speak to you, not at you to attack you

Maybe when I´m through with this rhyme I´ll get a statue
So now I ax you or tell you people literally
When it comes to rockin´ funky lyrics few are better than me
Down with BDP, endlessly recitin´ poetry
Any time I´m in the street, you hear my voice, you know it´s me
KR...nope! I´m not ready to say my name yet
Many say they teach, but this style they haven´t attained yet

Widdy-bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!
Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!
Bye bye bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!

Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye

Run it, son, plumb it you bum
Don´t you know that it´s KRS-One
That comes to sing the styles that ain´t sung
I rocked the party, but oh! Gotta run
Cos only the suckers want a chance at that
To see if KRS-One is really all that
Instead of a rap I jap-slap all of ´em back
Because the teacher that you see is not wack
I´d like to stack up all the hits that I´ve made
Three albums, a triple-layer cake
And throw it in your face you waste
Pick up the pace and taste a poet from the black race
While I whip you whine, you´re out of touch
I´m out of time, here´s another rhyme

(The black man´s in effect. Jeeeeeeesus! Oh gosh, dude. Oh gosh. Oh
Yes, dude. Yes)

(What´s the name of that crew? B.D.P)

(Say what? I´m not down with the Juice Crew)