Soul Assassins, KRS-One - Move Ahead lyrics

Real skills, Bronx styles
Cypress Ave meets Cypress Hill
Real hip-hop, bounce to
This shit motherfuckers, rEAD EM!
You know what's up, SHRAP!
Commisioner Gordon rock on
Tony Touch y'all rock on
Kid Capri yeah rock on
DJ Kenny Coffin yo rock on

In 199-sess, KRS is in his peak-in
You are weak-in and collapse like Mike
Collect the beacon
You talk more ish than a cellullar
You can't last, just call me Enema
Cos I give that ass-troid
Heaven and mergatroid
I'm that six, umm, microphone-holdin humanoid
Pyschological like Sigmund Freud
But I get annoyed cos these
Rappers have no brain
These hardcore rappers crack me
Up like cocaine they got no skill or game
They sellin that commercial let me say it
"Ask for Minoxadil with Rogaine"
True skills I will explain
The teacher breaks this whole shit down plain

West Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho
East Coast beef must dead, no-ho-ho
Time for us to move ahead, no-ho-ho
B-boy hip-hop is dead, no we must move ahead

People always say when they see us, teach us
So we move by the inch
Teachin only some of it, believe us
Hustlas and players and hoes
Will never leave us
They been around since Mary
Magdalene and Jesus run wit it
Pimps and players run the government
We been raised on a tonne of
It that's why we're lovin it
Bein a player is cool when you a kid
Until you get sent up for a eight year bid
Now you use and abuse and serve like hell
Til one day you are found
Face down upon the ground
Two shots to the dome
We need to switch quick
Dyin over what you players, I think
Call a bitch
I'm not a player hater cos I hate no one
But when you start destroyin hip-hop
You gots ta go, son
Government attack one who's brainwashed
Government attack two who is, yes
Brain rinsed
Government attack three is for you and me
To constantly dream about the
Lex with bulletproof tints
It's pointless to think I'm knockin ya
If you a pimp, be a pimp
I'll be a philosopher so the


Y-yes are the intelligent
We descend on every establishment
In the East or West, microphone grabbin it
Chess-to-chess, lyrical confrontation is dope
For the hip-hop nation, yet our hope
Your scope is broader than who can kill who
And who got the biggest crew?
That's why black people cannot
Seem to break thru
It's like crabs in a pot when
One crab reaches the top
Other crabs wish to pull down and blood
(BLOODS)
I'm not understandin what's all the fuss
Hip-hop belongs to all of us
The East created it, the West decorated it
Learn the lesson
The unified picture is black expression
When black expression heights it'self
It becomes black digression leadin
To depression in health
Now question these ideas today
If hip-hop was destroyed could
We blame the CIA
Or the FBI, you'd be a motherfuckin lie-
-er, li-ar, pants on fire-er
Conspiracy theories are contrise or we
Keep them on the shelf
We got no one to blame but ourselves so

We must move ahead all beef is dead!