KRS-One - Duty lyrics
[KRS-One - Duty lyrics]
Duty is called, I'm leaving you once more
I will be back
Right back when I'm off from the tour
The tour is your
Duty is called for the raw and
The raw one is me it's me you see
All of them told me "Kris you're to old b"
When they step to the mic
None of them could hold me
Rhymes never running out
You know what KRS about
I'm all up in the game like
Jordan when his tounge is out
The streets is mine these youngins
Busting is buggin out
You don't see no stars when the
Sun is out I'm coming out
Who you think the sun round here?
All that soft thug pop shit know
But don't get done round here
I'm only making my
Uniqueness kris-style clear so your head
I don't have to put a missile there
I do preach peace tho, I am hip hop
But when the Glock pops your
Brain goes into a dropbox
I keep the crowd jumping like
Hopscotch in the party
I'm the dopest emcee and
Im dressed like anybody
I show up, wanna fight, unshaven naughty
Battle a platinum rapper and take his Bugatti
Sell it in the hood, provide for everybody
Next week another rapper giving up a Ferrari
What they call dope today is wack, I'm sorry
I'm raw, sushi style I spit the wasabi
I'm at the corner store, gas station shopping
Go "where these other rappers really
Be at I don't know"
But everywhere our crews at people
Want the boom bap
Boom bap and we ain't taking
Nothing from no new cats
But KRS-One I come from where your shoes at
Where your soul at
This that real street new jack
Who's that, the masta with the blasta
I don't write song for cash
I write songs that last
They call me the teache cuz
I'm from a different class
I preserve hip hop these the the two kings
These are the greatest
These youngers claiming king and
Ain't even made this
When the true king touchdown you know it
No talk, no hype, just skills and we show it
I will be back
Right back when I'm off from the tour
The tour is your
Duty is called for the raw and
The raw one is me it's me you see
All of them told me "Kris you're to old b"
When they step to the mic
None of them could hold me
Rhymes never running out
You know what KRS about
I'm all up in the game like
Jordan when his tounge is out
The streets is mine these youngins
Busting is buggin out
You don't see no stars when the
Sun is out I'm coming out
Who you think the sun round here?
All that soft thug pop shit know
But don't get done round here
I'm only making my
Uniqueness kris-style clear so your head
I don't have to put a missile there
I do preach peace tho, I am hip hop
But when the Glock pops your
Brain goes into a dropbox
I keep the crowd jumping like
Hopscotch in the party
I'm the dopest emcee and
Im dressed like anybody
I show up, wanna fight, unshaven naughty
Battle a platinum rapper and take his Bugatti
Sell it in the hood, provide for everybody
Next week another rapper giving up a Ferrari
What they call dope today is wack, I'm sorry
I'm raw, sushi style I spit the wasabi
I'm at the corner store, gas station shopping
Go "where these other rappers really
Be at I don't know"
But everywhere our crews at people
Want the boom bap
Boom bap and we ain't taking
Nothing from no new cats
But KRS-One I come from where your shoes at
Where your soul at
This that real street new jack
Who's that, the masta with the blasta
I don't write song for cash
I write songs that last
They call me the teache cuz
I'm from a different class
I preserve hip hop these the the two kings
These are the greatest
These youngers claiming king and
Ain't even made this
When the true king touchdown you know it
No talk, no hype, just skills and we show it