We In There (Alternate Lyrics) - Yo Mtv Raps Version

"Don't gimme da-dis, don't gimme da-dat, don't gimme my lyrical miracle act

You'll flip yourself from the front to the back, whatever you mumbling is whiggity-whack

What's all this scribblin-gigglin-gangin-and-bangin and what you really sayin?

Nothin you're frontin and huntin, gruntin for somethin

I come Kriss-tyal clear, good as that first glass

You can't last the class, you're the outlash

Or the boom-bash, and the end of crash

Find PM Dawn and ask they ass

I am the Teacha, undisputed Teacha

Bout to see your body like a beatin peepin reachin seekin leapin creepin - uh

But at the same time (? )

This is our corporate meeting, greeting!

I use a little-a-this

A little-a-that

So lyrics I rap will dazzle, when I battle

I won't have to resurrect styles or rattle

The cat'll get your tongue

I'm KRS-One

I'll bring a catastrophe to an emcee

But I'm not exact-ahct-actly young

Who wants to test the respect

Phrase for phrase, it pays, to look the other ways

I'm not the lyrical average, I'm all about damage

You in my face then your manager can't manage"

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah

They are in there, like you'll soon be in prison

(You await and this is faggot, your ass you'll be given)

Who you kiddin'? You're only tryin' to rock a party

You ain't really down to shoot nobody

So why you frontin'? Sayin' from the cops you be runnin'

In jail in a pair of panties you look just stunning

You pop all that wannabe shit on vinyl

Until your ass is bein' pumped by some faggot named Lionel

In jail you ain't got respect

You a fairy, I'll be takin' your commissary

And the picture of your sister, mister

As seamy as Pee-Wee Herman, I ain't trying to diss her

This ain't no bullshit game and I ain't changed

I'm just thinkin' long range

People died so I can rhyme

You think I'm gonna grab the mic and waste my nation's time?

Step up with that weak shit

You're psychologically, historically, and spiritually sick

Plus you're on my dick

Changin' the subject, your rhyme style ain't correct

You know my fuckin' name!

Blastmaster KRS is thinking long range!

Yeah we in there, yeah yeah

KRS, Kenny Parker, Willie D from Long Island

Heather B, Ska-Danks

D-Square, Sidney Mills

Ha-ohhhh go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!

Go Bronx! (Go Brooklyn, go Brooklyn!)

The Bronx! Yell Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx! Southside Bronx!

Southside Bronx, argh!