Mc's Act Like They Don't Know Lyrics

   Intro
   
   Clap your hands everybody, if you got what it takes
   Cos I'm KRS and I'm on the mic, and Premier's on The Breaks
   
   Verse 1
   
   If you don't know me by now I doubt you'll ever know me
   I never won a Grammy, I won't win a Tony
   But I'm not the only MC keepin' it real
   When I grab the mic to smash a rapper, girls go "Illlll!"
   Check the time as I rhyme, it's 1995
   Whenever I arrive the party gets liver
   Flow with the master rhymer, that's to leave behind
   The video rapper, you know, the chart climber
   Clapper, down goes another rapper
   Onto another matter, punch up the data, Blastmaster
   Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody
   Call up KRS, I'm guaranteed to rip a party
   Flat top, braids, bald heads or natty dread
   There once was a story about a man named Jed
   But now Jed is dead, all his kids instead
   Want to kick rhymes off the top of they head
   Word, what go around come around I figure
   Now we got white kids callin' themselves niggas
   The tables turned as the crosses burned
   Remember You Must Learn
   About the styles I flip and how wild I get
   I go on like a space age rocket ship
   You could be a mack, a pimp, hustler or player
   But make sure live you is a dope rhyme sayer
   
   Verse 2
   
   This is what you waited all year for
   The hardcore, that's what KRS is here for
   Big up Grand Wizard Theodore, gettin' ill
   If you see then ya saw I'm in your grill with mad skill
   MC's can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines
   Let's battle to see who headlines
   Instead of flow for flow let's go show for show
   Toe for toe, yo, you better act like you know
   Too many MC's take that word 'emcee' lightly
   They can't Move a Crowd, not even slightly
   It might be the fact that they express wackness
   Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest
   I flip a script a little bit, you ride the tip and shit
   Too sick to get with it, admit you bit, your style is counterfeit
   Now tone it down a bit
   My title you will never get, I'm too intelligent
   I'll send your family my sentiments, my style is toxic
   When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head, I knock it
   It split quick from the lyric
   Direct hit, perfect fit, you can't get with it
   
   Verse 3
   
   Some MC's don't like the KRS but they must respect him
   Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum
   Slappin' and selectin' em, checkin' em, disrespectin' em
   Just deckin' em, deckin' em, deck-in' em
   Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine?
   I design rhyme and get mine all the time
   MC's standin' on the sidelines, always dissin'
   When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin'
   I don't burn, I don't freeze, yet some MC's
   Believe they could tangle with the likes of these
   Cross your t's and dot your i's whenever I arrive
   Wide, magnified, live like the ocean tide
   You dope, you lied, I reside like artefacts
   On the wrong side of the tracks, electrified
   Comin' around the mountain, you run and hide
   Hopin' your defence mechanism can divert my heat-seeking lyricism
   As I spark mad iszm
   The 1996 lyrical style's what I give 'em

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