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Essays On Bdp-Ism Music Lyrics

KRS-One

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You've got the time

I've got the time

You've got the time

Am I supposed to stand here?

These bright lights, I'll probably get a tan here

Scott, turn up the master so I can hear, and talk faster

I'm the Blastmaster, 'cos I'm blasted

I know a lot of y'all are shocked that I've lasted

But Blastmaster is a subtitle, KRS-One is more vital

And more lethal and more vicious

As the suckers always say, "He just dissed us

He got a problem, yo, he's conceited"

I'm not conceited, they just couldn't beat it

'Cos when I'm in a club I like to mingle

Seconds later they're playin' that single

Loud as a collision and pumped up dramatically

So the people in the place will automatically

Time it, and dance right behind it

Those that have it on tape will rewind it

It's not surprising, we rock parties

Anywhere, anyone, anybody

Some sound shoddy, like cardboard

But I'm blessed, praise the Lord

You see I like to study, I like money

I like eatin' wheat bread with honey

But to none of these am I addicted

I like to remain free and unafflicted

With the sickness of attachment

The material road of entrapment

Those that walk this road become weak

They can't think, they can't speak

Unself-sufficient, 'cos they're leeching

I'm not dissin', I'm simply teachin'

Well if you notice, not once

Have I said Scott's name to gain fame

See it's a shame that they're blinded

If they had a piece of paper I'd sign it

That's called an autograph, this is called a class

I've only come to educate the mass

Of young people, to this there's no sequel

Just a message, be peaceful and loving, but not a sucker

And stay away from negative motherfuckers

They only pull you down with their hate

But wait, here's somethin' to meditate

You've got the time, I've got the time

Down ratin' statements you always seem to make

You never wanna create 'cos b-boys you don't affiliate

You're self-whipped 'cos you claim it's not a gift

To execute the rhyme on time without a shift

You only utter negativity, never productivity

For the b-boy talent or b-boy productivity

Yet when all the currency comes in tax free you wanna see me

My name is Kris and now you guessed this

I got X-ray vision and I'm lookin' through your game

It's the same, what a shame, now take aim on what I shall obtain

Absolute respect from you, con, 'cos now you know it

I'm Blastmaster KRS One, short for poet

I do not read the paper, I read the dictionary

'Cos nuclear destruction, yeah, AIDS just doesn't scare me

The girls be lookin' sweeter, the cops be lookin' meaner

Carryin' bigger gun, shoot the people for fun

If you could realize this you won't be called a toy

But yet a b-boy, and I know you'll enjoy

Just coolin' out without a doubt, livin' life a little different

Yeah, different, never innocent, with a little delligence

I am only 20, yet here's my present level

Just one of the Boogie Down Production crew rebels

Our reputation grows as the music gets vicious

I will succeed while you suckers make wishes

Time and time again I prove to be exciting

But time and time again you prove to be biting

I need no judge, no jury, no lawyers

With DJ Scott La Rock, better known as The Destroyer

You've got the time, I've got the time

You've got the time, I've got the time

You've got the time, I've got the time

You've got the time

KRS-One - Essays On Bdp-Ism Music Lyrics

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