KRS-One - The Teacha Returns lyrics
[KRS-One - The Teacha Returns lyrics]
Bam Beatz on this one, let's rock out!
Taking you low
This The Teacha, I do this for life
Plus I'm psychic, but I ain't gon tell you
Who's doing your wife
You ain't raw like the coke
In your rhyme recital you been cut so much
You starting to look suicidal
You trifle, trifling
You need to stop and listen
You need to hear 2Pac when
He was locked in prison
Man, for real, I'm expanding
This ain't whiling out
You'll get nicked with two cannons
Your team's not loyal
You're not harming me son
If I said "Who wanna go on tour?"
You'd be an army of one
What's that shit around your mouth man, cum?!
Face the fact, you lost, we got it, we won
You better off trying on some lottery run
Then to go against The Teacha
I put the Glock to you dunn
I be rockin' them drums
All you doing is shoutin'
What's your address, 69 Brokeback Mountain?!
It seems my skill you doubtin'
I spit lyrics, I flow like a fountain
Listen, you'll get crushed like a
Kush going into my blunt
I take it way back, all you do is front!
Yeah haha, ha yeah, yeah kRS!
Spit tacular, you spit at me
I spit it back at ya
I'm an emcee, not an actor
My lyrics won't trap ya, they'll free ya
But rappers still wanna test The Teacha
Let 'em have it!
What you in my face for, in my space for?
This is what you rappers get
Smacked in your face for
Y'all talk about cutting the bass raw
But you draw the cops
This what you get chased for
I'm forever above your world
In whatever you do
Rappers, I will level your crew
When I'm through
They won't even be able to TELL if it's you
I'm an emcee
This tradition goes back to Pebbly Poo
Man, I speak the truth
I'mma show you what God is
I heard your CD from the start
It was GARBAGE!
Click, click, click, I load the cartridge
Look in the palm of my hand man
- THAT'S where your heart is!
Taking you low
This The Teacha, I do this for life
Plus I'm psychic, but I ain't gon tell you
Who's doing your wife
You ain't raw like the coke
In your rhyme recital you been cut so much
You starting to look suicidal
You trifle, trifling
You need to stop and listen
You need to hear 2Pac when
He was locked in prison
Man, for real, I'm expanding
This ain't whiling out
You'll get nicked with two cannons
Your team's not loyal
You're not harming me son
If I said "Who wanna go on tour?"
You'd be an army of one
What's that shit around your mouth man, cum?!
Face the fact, you lost, we got it, we won
You better off trying on some lottery run
Then to go against The Teacha
I put the Glock to you dunn
I be rockin' them drums
All you doing is shoutin'
What's your address, 69 Brokeback Mountain?!
It seems my skill you doubtin'
I spit lyrics, I flow like a fountain
Listen, you'll get crushed like a
Kush going into my blunt
I take it way back, all you do is front!
Yeah haha, ha yeah, yeah kRS!
Spit tacular, you spit at me
I spit it back at ya
I'm an emcee, not an actor
My lyrics won't trap ya, they'll free ya
But rappers still wanna test The Teacha
Let 'em have it!
What you in my face for, in my space for?
This is what you rappers get
Smacked in your face for
Y'all talk about cutting the bass raw
But you draw the cops
This what you get chased for
I'm forever above your world
In whatever you do
Rappers, I will level your crew
When I'm through
They won't even be able to TELL if it's you
I'm an emcee
This tradition goes back to Pebbly Poo
Man, I speak the truth
I'mma show you what God is
I heard your CD from the start
It was GARBAGE!
Click, click, click, I load the cartridge
Look in the palm of my hand man
- THAT'S where your heart is!