Chubb Rock, KRS-One - Reputation lyrics

Can we hear the track please
BLAOW! Who are we? (We) Reputation!
Who are we? (We) Reputation!
Only the best touch the microphone
(One two, check one two) You know whassup
Chubb Rock, KRS-One, get 'cha mind blown
Now we gon' talk about Reputation!
Your reputation
(It's about to blow shit's about to blow big)
Reputation Reputation!
(Mental countdown) Reputation!
Lyrical skills we bring for the nation
(We have liftoff) Chubb Rock come down!

I am the big time figure
The bass drum hitter
The I am what I am rogueish nigga
A flow like lava, to heat up the chatta
Heat up ya mat'ta, then go stick her daughter
I oughta, Joe Cocker your opera
Crowd rock ya
I make you scream "Oooh ah ah!"
I, indubital mental big head
Praying for a battle if ya battle
You're dead get diesel
I do ya like they did Bugsy Siegal
I'm on the mic and Kris
Is really on the ne-tel
Cuttin, backspinnin and recuttin
Your english bugged so you can't do me nuttin
Laced up lyrics and the beat real tight
Your song is wrong and I get focused right
With the EQ, be who, be you
When you're trying to be me
You and your crew
Just stop, before the shit gets too hot
You need respect - just to get a rep

Tra la la la la la la la lay
We the freshest deejay in America today
Hey hey! Tra la la la la la la la lay
We the freshest deejay
In America today - hey hey!

Well the lyrics of my peers
Have changed course here's
Platinum LP's, the subject is to swear, yeah!
And who wears what and what, fashion is up
And which designer cut is more corrupt
It's an open and shut case
No ill look is on my face
While the bass growls
Profound nouns buy a vowel
I'm concerned because, "You Must Learn"
Before you croak
I've been dope since I was sperm
Sellin records, but of course with no return
On the mic you know I burn baby inhales
With your beats you know you have no respect
Kids haven't walked wild since "Go Stet"
And I bet when they stage rock they get booed
They need qualuudes to get
Crude and extra rude
The spirit's have haunted your
Lyrics so I slept
Got nuff Z's, tryin to get a rep

If you thinkin that it's KRS
You wanna take out
You better reroute quick you got it
All wrong see when I grab the
Microphone career is finished
You better reroute quick you got it
All wrong i do not mean to diss you but
We simply are the best ones
And you can call him Chubb or
You can call me KRS-One
Either way you'll get done, anywhere, any one
Me and lyrics one ton
Straighten up and choose one SON
In nineteen-ninety-sess, KRS is in his peak'n
You will weaken and collapse like
Michael at the Beacon
You talk more ish than a senator
You can't last, just call me enema
Cause I'll be in that
Ass-teroid, heaven to merkatroid
I'm that 6L microphone holdin humanoid
Psychological like Sigmund Freud
But I get annoyed
Cause these rappers have no brain
These hardcore rappers crack me
Up like cocaine they got no skill or game
They sound like that commercial that be sayin
"Ask for Minoxonil, with Rogaine"
True skills I will explain
The T'Cha breaks the campaign down plain
People always talk about complete blowout
Complete blowout Reputation!
Check, complete blowout Reputation!
People always talk about
"Now I understand what they're
Talkin about" Reputation!
"Now I understand what they're
Talkin about" Reputation!
"Now I understand what they're talkin about"