Achieving The Levels

[Intro]

Okay, I see how you doin' it, that was dope

I got this gutter shit lined up, I know you ain't tired

What?

Ha ha ha

Really?

[Verse]

I ain't even tryin' or peekin'

I just ripped a club down last weekend

I'm no trick but I'm treating rappers like Halloween

They all costume, no substance and that's what hollow means

They really empty like a lot of fiends

They holding a hundred but they don't really know what a one-dollar means

They slaves to slave economies

Sellouts and traitors posing as hip-hop, we got a lot of these

So I be spittin' my philosophies with evidence

No doubt, this is the routе so why the hesitance?

Is it bеcause I'm spittin' with divine intelligence

And excellence and you hearing rhymes that are irrelevant?

Knowledge Reigns Supreme, KRS is how I'm spellin' it

The top one of the top five and that's the end of it

I judge my pen when I sentence it

Then imprison your mind with my penmanship, but here's some better shit

Get with me, you forgot? Let me jog your memory

I'm a Poor Righteous Teacher and a Public Enemy

Fake-ass DJs, they do not play or even mention me

I'm scary, revolutionary; fake, I will never be

Real, I'll forever be; I'm a whole different entity

I spit rhymes by the mouth and by telepathy

Health, love, awareness and wealth, that's the recipe

I'm 50 and 20-year-olds can't match the energy

On stage I'm in a rage, yeah it's like 10 of me

Disrespect the teacher, you know the penalty

KRS-One, I'm from a whole different century

I'm Paid in Full so you can ch-check out My Melody

Murderin' mics, they chargin' me with a felony

But I can't be caught because the ancestors dwell in me

Movin' with hesitancy when you mentionin' me

I'm an original MC, get your T-I-C-K-E-T

The mic grabber, beat stabber, street grammar, heat blaster

I stay chunky and hungry so I eat faster

Gobble, gobble, gobble, most rappers are hollow

So KRS-One becomes that hard act to follow

Hard beats, hard rhymes, hard cuttin'

"Wha-dot-dot-dot-dang!" gets the whole place jumpin'

This is that original Boogie Down Productions

Last of them true MCs that still function

Boom, bap, boom bap

When the mic turns on, dudes be like, "Who's that?"

Crowd rushin' in, security's like, "Move back!"

Real skill, that's what a lot of you lack

I'm turnin' on my mic to reveal a new batch

Rappers say they great, but compared to Kris, who match?

Amber alert on the phone when you snatched

How you a DJ? You ain't even start from scratch

[Break]

Yeah, I know you waitin'

I'm just messin' with the reverb a little bit

Just keep goin' and I'll tell you when to stop

[Verse 2]

You still here? It ain't over yet

Knowledge Reigns, so I'ma leave 'em soaking wet

If you listenin' to a legend, this is what you supposed to get

Real skill, my utmost respect or a broken neck

Flawless rawness, I pour this through the cordless, all this is lawless

I'm the tallest, people say, "Give me more, Kris!"

You can't ignore this, you know you saw this, the extensive tallest is flawless

We on this because dope is what they call this

So from the gutter, the number one

He comes from under, from the hood when the hood was a hood and it peaked at summer

We used to speak our rhymes to Funky Drummer

We called it The Dozens, a competition of words, jokes about your mother

Now Knowledge Reigning Supreme like no other

The soul brother whose beats and words so gutter

No wonder this brother, when he utters you don't blow

Not with the gun though, with the one flow, you like, "Fuck no!"

This no luck though, I'm one bro

You can now catch me teaching in Brick City at 55 Ludlow

Dudes be like, "Uh oh, we in trouble"

King of the jungle, no time to mumble, kingdom's gon' crumble

I step, they stumble; I bee like bumble

A one-two to run to a traitor like "Fuck you and bring the truck through"

I gets down but you can't see what I'm up to

I'm tacklin' rappers like, "Hut one! Hut two!"

When I come through

[Outro]

Okay, okay, we good, let's change up the flow