My Philosophy

[Intro]

("So, you're a philosopher?")

("Yes, I think very deeply")

In about four seconds, a teacher will begin to speak

[Verse 1: KRS-One]

Let us begin, what, where, why or when

Will all be explained like instructions to a game

See I'm not insane, in fact I'm kind of rational

When I be asking you, "Who is more dramatical?"

This one or that one, the white one or the black one

Pick the punk and I'll jump up to attack one

KRS-One is just the guy to lead a crew

Right up to your face and diss you

Everyone saw me on the last album cover

Holding a pistol, something far from a lover

Beside my brother, S-C-O-T-T

I just laughed 'cause no one can defeat me

This is lecture number two, "My Philosophy"

Number one, was "Poetry" you know it's me

This is "My Philosophy," many artists got to learn

I'm not flammable, I don't burn

So please stop burning and learn to earn respect

'Cause that's just what KR collects

See, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk?

You walk down the street and get jumped

You got to have style and learn to be original

And everybody's gonna wanna diss you

Like me, we stood up for the South Bronx

And every sucker MC had a response

You think we care? I know that they are on the tip

My posse from the Bronx is thick

In real real life, we roll correctly

A lot of suckers would like to forget me

But they can't 'cause like a champ I have got a record

Of knocking out the frauds in a second

On the mic, I believe that you should get loose

I haven't come to tell you I got juice

I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level

I'll be back, but for now just sekkle!

[Break]

In about four seconds, a teacher will begin to speak

[Verse 2: KRS-One]

I'll play the nine and you play the target

You all know my name so I guess I'll just start it

Or should I say start this, teaching I'm the artist

Styles and new concepts at their hardest

Yo, 'cause I'm a teacher and Scott is a scholar

It ain't about money cause we all make dollars

That's why I walk with my head up

When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up

Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games

A lot of suckers with colorful names

I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that

Huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack

I'm not white or red or black, I'm brown

From the Boogie Down

Productions, of course, our music be thumping

Others say they're bad, but they're bugging

Let me show you something now about Hip Hop

About D-Nice, Melodie, and Scott La Rock

I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker

Mainly, what I write is for the average New Yorker

Some MCs be talking and talking

Trying to show how Black people are walking

But I don't walk this way to portray

Or reinforce stereotypes of today

Like all my brothers eat chicken and watermelon

Talk broken English and drug selling

See, I'm telling and teaching pure facts

The way some act in rap is kind of wack

And it lacks creativity and intelligence

But they don't care 'cause their company's selling it

It's my philosophy on the industry

Don't bother dissing me or even wishing we'd

Soften, dilute or commercialize all the lyrics

'Cause it's about time one of y'all hear it

And hear it first-hand from an intelligent brown man

A vegetarian, no goat or ham

Or chicken or turkey or hamburger

'Cause to me that's suicide, self-murder

Let us get back to what we call hip-hop

And what it meant to DJ Scott La Rock

[Break]

("So, you're a philosopher?")

("Yes, I think very deeply.")

In about four seconds, a teacher will begin to speak

[Verse 3: KRS-One]

How many MCs must get dissed

Before somebody says, "Don't f*** with Kris!"?

This is just one style, out of many

Like a piggy bank, this is one penny

My brother's name is Kenny, that's Kenny Parker

My other brother I.C.U. is much darker

Boogie Down Productions is made up of teachers

The lecture is conducted from the mic into the speaker

Who gets weaker: the king or the teacher?

It's not about a salary, it's all about reality

Teachers teach and do the world good

Kings just rule and most are never understood

If you were to rule or govern a certain industry

All inside this room right now would be in misery

No one would get along nor sing a song

'Cause everyone'd be singing for the king, am I wrong?

I say yo, what's up? It's me again

Scott La Rock, KRS, BDP again

Many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend

With Criminal Minded, an album which is only ten

Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit records

No more than four minutes and some seconds

The competition checks and checks and keeps checking

They take the album, take it home and start sweating

Why? Well, it's simple, to them, it's kind of vital

To take KRS-One's title

To them, I'm like an idol, some type of entity

In everybody's rhyme, they wanna mention me?

Or rather mention us, me and Scott La Rock

But they can get bust, get robbed, get dropped

I don't play around, nor do I eff around

And you can tell by the bodies that are left around

When some clown jumps up to get beat down

Broken down to his very last compound

See how it sound, a little un-rational

A lot of MCs like to use the word "dramatical"

[Outro: KRS-One]

Fresh for '88, you suckers