I'm Still #1 - Boogie Down Productions

Verse 1 D.J. Doc you know he's down with us D-Square, he's down with us Keyboard Money Mike, is down with us I.C.U., you know he's down with us D-Nice and McBoo, they're down with us Ms. Melodie, she's down with us Just-Ice and DMX, they're down with us My manager Moe, he's down with us Castle-D boy, he's down with us D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us Robocop boy, he's down with us Makin' funky music is a must I'm number one. People still takin' rappin' for a joke A passing hope or a phase with a rope Sometimes I choke and try to believe When I get challenged by a million MCs I try to tell them, "We're all in this together!" My album was raw because no-one would ever Think like I think and do what I do I stole the show, and then I leave without a clue What do you think makes up a KRS? Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking? Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble Rebel, renegade, must stay paid Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits Causing me to take long trips I'm the original teacher of this type of style Rockin' off-beat with a smile Or smirk or chuckle, yes some are not up to BDP Posse so I love to Step in the jam and slam I'm not Superman, because anybody can Or should be able to rock off turntables Grab the mic, plug it in and begin But here's where the problem starts, no heart Because of that a lot of groups fell apart Rap is still an art, and no-one's from the Old School Cuz Rap is still a brand-new tool I say no-one's from the Old School cuz Rap on a whole Isn't even twenty years old Fifty years down the line, you can start this Cuz we'll be the Old School artists And even in that time, I'll say a rhyme A brand-new style, ruthless and wild Runnin' around spendin' money, havin' fun Cuz even then, I'm still number one. Verse 2 Blastmaster KRS-One of course Comes to express with style the lost Ways of rhyming, old and new, past and present Knock, knock, who is it? A brand-new style, hup, time to change People talk about me when they see me on stage Live in action, guaranteed raw I hang with the rich and I work for the poor Now tomorrow you can say you saw KRS-One stompin' once more I play by ear, I love to steer The Alfa Romeo from here to there I grab the beer, but not in the ride Cuz I'm not stupid, I don't drink and drive I'm not a beginner, amateur or local My album is sellin' because of my vocals You know what you need to learn? Old School artists don't always burn You're just another rapper who's had his turn Now it's my turn, and I am concerned About idiots posing as kings What are we here to rule? I thought we were supposed to sing And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach Many of you are educated, open your mouth and speak KRS-One is something like a total renegade Except I don't steal, I rhyme to get paid Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin' Politicians lyin', I'm tryin' Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on By bringin' out the truth in a song So BDP, short for Boogie Down Productions Made a little noise cuz the crew was sayin' somethin' People have the nerve to take me for a gangster An ignorant one, something closer to a prankster Doin' petty crimes, goin' straight to penitentiary But in a scale of crime that's really elementary This beat is now compelling me to explain in silence Why my last jam was so violent It's simple: BDP will teach reality No beatin' around the bush, straight up, just like The P Is Free So now you know, a poet's job is never done But I'm never overworked, cuz I'm still number one. Kool Moe Dee, he's down with us Eric B. and Rakim, they're down with us Stetsasonic, they're down with us Dana Dane, he's down with us Sleeping Bag Records, they're down with us My lawyer Jay, he's down with us Jive/RCA is down with us Makin' funky music is a must I'm number one.

See the stars come joining down from the sky Gently passing they kiss your tears when you cry See the wind the summer blow your hair upon your head See the rain, the falling rain, it's great Still I'm sad All my sounds my tears just fall into days They are driving the night will find they are lost Now I found the wind is blowing time into my heart When the wind blows hard we are apart Still I'm sad See the stars come joining down from the sky Gently passing they kiss your tears when you cry See the wind the summer blow your hair upon your head See the rain, the falling rain, it's great Still I'm sad Still I'm sad Oh heart, I'm sad Still I'm sad Oh heart, I'm sad

The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! Here is a message to the Super-Hoes Just keep in mind when Jimmy grows It grows and grows and grows, so let it But keep in mind about the epidemic When Jimmy releases, boy it pleases But what do you do about all these diseases? Jimmy is Jimmy, no matter what So take care of Jimmy cos you know what's up Cos now in winter AIDS attacks So run out and get your Jimmy Hats It costs so little for a pack of three They're Jimmy Hats for the winter attack Good for a present, great for lovers Demonstrated by The Jungle Brothers Protect your Jimmy and keep it fresh They're Jimmy Hats by KRS So, remember you're never too old (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Remember you're never too bold (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Do me a favour, wear your hat So Jimmy... will have the opportunity to come back Well, Red Alert is down with BDP Teachin' you all about Jimbrowski I don't wanna hear that you're not with it Turn around and see your butt in a clinic Havin' doctors just poke at Jimmy Let me express what now what's in me Too many people take too many risks Too many people I see get dissed Jimmy Hats are now in style Cos you can't trust a big butt and a smile Some are dry and some lubricated Many companies make and made it So all you Super-Hoes, wear your hat Cos drippin' Jimmies is straight up wack Keep in mind about Jimbrowski Jimmy Hats by BDP The J, the I, the M The M, the Y, the J, the I... It's Jimmy! It's Jimmy! The J, the I, the M, the M The Y, the J, the I, the M It's Jimmy! So, remember you're never too old (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Remember you're never too bold (Jimmy is wearin' a hat) Do me a favour, wear your hat So Jimmy... will have the opportunity to come back

Verse 1: 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 Suckas wanna fake it, I just hate it Bitin routines or sayin somethin kinda weak My words are comprehended every time I speak Or have spoken, no I'm not jokin 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 life try to dis me Cos I don't battle with rhymes, I battle with guns Knowledge reigns supreme over nearly every one If you take the first letter of what I just sung You spell my name "KRS-One" It's elementary Elementary Verse 2: DJ Scott LaRock and I: KRS-One Our mother's first son and no, we'll never run From complex situations like you T-O-Y-S's Always talkin junk, yet in jail, you're rockin dresses I have arrived for the purpose of joy Unlike any ordinary Bronx b-boy I will volunteer my services and launch an attack On you fake educators 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 burnin 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 Watchin all these females rock their pants too tight Cos there's no other creative composition on display That 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 Cuttin records, drivin cars, 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 LaRock (Go off! Go off!) (Scott La Rock) (Go off! Go off!) x8 Verse 3: Boogie Down Productions, no reduction to its title If you have a headache, 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 gettin 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 Elementary All it really is to me and Scott La Rock... is elementary Elementary Elementary

Beef, what a relief When will this poisonous product cease? This is another public service announcement You can believe it, or you can doubt it Let us begin now with the cow The way it gets to your plate and how The cow doesn't grow fast enough for man So through his greed he makes a faster plan He has drugs to make the cow grow quicker Through the stress the cow gets sicker Twenty-one different drugs are pumped Into the cow in one big lump So just before it dies, it cries In the slaughterhouse full of germs and flies Off with the head, they pack it, drain it, and cart it And there it is, in your local supermarket Red and bloody, a corpse, neatly packed And you wonder about heart attacks? Come on now man let's be for real You are what you eat is the way I feel But, the Food and Drug Administration Will tell you meat is the perfect combination See cows live under fear and stress Trying to think what's gonna happen next Fear and stress can become a part of you In your cells and blood, this is true So when the cow is killed, believe it You preserve those cells, you freeze it Thaw it out with the blood and season it Then you sit down and begin eatin it In your body, it's structure becomes your structure All the fear and stress of another Any drug is addictive by any name Even drugs in meat, they are the same The FDA has America strung out On drugs in beef no doubt So if you think that what I say is a bunch of crock Tell yourself you're gonna try and stop Eatin meat and you'll see you can't compete It's the number one drug on the street Not crack, cause that was made for just black But brown beef, for all American teeth Life brings life and death brings death Keep on eatin the dead and what's left Absolute disease and negative Read the book 'How to Eat to Live' By Elijah Muhammad, it's a brown paperback For anybody, either white or black See how many cows must be pumped up fatter How many rats gotta fall in the batter How many chickens that eat shit you eat How much high blood pressure you get from pig feet See you'll consume, the FDA could care less They'll sell you donkey meat and say it's FRESH! For nineteen-ninety, you SUCKERS

Well now you're forced to listen to the teacher and the lesson Class is in session so you can stop guessin If this is a tape or a written down memo See I am a professional, this is not a demo In fact call it a lecture, a visual picture Sort of a poetic and rhythm-like mixture Listen, I'm not dissin but there's somethin that you're missin Maybe you should touch reality, stop wishin For beats with plenty bass and lyrics said in haste If this meaning doesn't manifest put it to rest I am a poet, you try to show it, yet blow it It takes concentration for fresh communication Observation, that is to see without speaking Take off your coat, take notes, I am teachin A class, or rather school, cause you need schooling I am not a king or queen, I'm not ruling This is anduction to poetry A small dedication to those that might know of me They might know of you and maybe your gang But one thing's for sure, neither one of y'all can hang Cause yo I'm like a arrow, and Scott is the crossbow Say something now ... thought so You seem to be the type that only understand The annihilation and destruction of the next man That's not poetry, that is insanity It's simply fantasy far from reality Poetry is the language of imagination Poetry is a form of positive creation Difficult, isn't it? The point? You're missin it Your face is in front of my hand so I'm dissin it Scott LaRock is innovating, decorating hip-hop The beat may drop but not like all the others They just cover while I just smother Every single stupid mutha -- wait wait brotha KRS-One will have to show another MC or self-proclaimed king or queen Or gang or crew or solo or team That I mean Business So tell me what is this? See I come from the Bronx so just kiss this Boogie Down Productions is somewhat an experiment The antidote for sucka MC's and they're fearin it It's self-explanatory, no one's writin for me The poetry I'm rattlin is really not for battlin But if you want I will simply change the program So when I'm done you will simply say "damn" So this conversation is somewhat hypothetical Boogie Down Productions attempts to prove somethin I say hypothetical because it's only theory My theory, so take a minute now to hear me So what's your problem? It seems you want to be KRS-Two From my point of view, backtrack, stop the attack Cos KRS-One means simply one KRS That's it, that's all, solo, single, no more, no less I've built up my credential financially and mental Anytime I rhyme I request the instrumental I speak clearly and that's merely Or should I say a mere, help to my career I'm really not into fashion or craze Just the one who pays and how soon I get a raise You're probably in a daze, acting out of sympathy Wrote a couple of rhymes and think that you can get with me But what a pity, I'm rockin New York City And everywhere else, you put the jams on the shelf You as an amateur is outspoken I'm looking at your face, you seem to be hopin That I might stutter, stop, or just mess up But everything's live that's why I don't dress up "Blastmaster KRS" a synonym for "fresh" I'm the teacher of the class, I do not pass no test Got DJ Scott LaRock by my side, not in back of me Cos we make up the Boogie Down Productions crew faculty Get it right, or train yourself not to bite Cos when you bite you have bitten, when I hear it, that's it I do not contemplate a battle cause it really ain't worth it I'd rather point a pistol at your head and try to burst it I'm teaching poetry I'm teaching poetry Scott LaRock We're teaching po-e-try