Krs-one - Slap Them Up Lyrics
Intro~~~~~[d.j. premier]Tellin it like it is, right about now d.j. premier is in theMother*****in house and shit, ya know what Im sayin? but yo,Yo kris, run that shit, ya know what Im sayin? that, that shit,My joint. run that mother*****er...its only right kid...[krs-one](do it, do it, do it...)Drop that bassline...You want lyrics? we give ya lyrics. check it out now, one time...(do it, do it, do it...)When we come in all de dance nuff d.j.s shut up, woy!Gal! will ya come slap dem upWhen we come in all de dance nuff d.j.s shut up, woy!Ill will, slap dem upVerse~~~~~[ill will]Mcs get ate, get broken like a pretzelAnd get dissed if they ever try to step toThey cant take a mc with loose lipsTalk a lotta shit [but sink no mother*****in ships]Lyrics make bigger holes than hollow tipsWatch another rapper body get stiffJust like in church, we pass the basketAs I preach over his casket***** it, kick the body right overAnd say see ya, hmm...nice to know yaGot another rapper to seeYo kris, bust that ass [certainly][krs-one]If youre shiverin get off the potLet the original rapper rock the spotYou stand there and jock, goin [mumbles]This is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to krisChattin foolishness, step along quick with that stupidnessIts me rippin this for self, where else ya lookin?I got more rhymes than all the jamaicans in brooklynSo beat it or be seated, gee Im mad undefeatedYoung boy, you cant see me, run along and make pee-peeI was rockin rhymes when la-di-da-di was a demoAdmit you been on my tip for years and just cant seem to let goGo, go call your mother, tell her you wanna battle krs quickI bet the minute you get home youll get your ass whippedCrazy ill mad styles is what I giveemNot a run-of-the-millem, I drillem, I got ridiculous rhythmNone of my styles you can get withemStill um, will um, your crew come get some so I can killem[ill will]Well I roll by myself but dont let it fool yaIf I got beef my crewll damn step to yaWe dont play no games, Ill come straight to your restLift up your shirt and blast you in your chest[well that was fresh][krs-one]A fad doesnt fill the bill, but mad skills willDont let me have to kill you kid, God forbid stillGreed will lead your need to succeedBut your speed, your speechYour outreach is a breach of what I teachFor lyrical styles youre a leechIf I was spanish Id say, [you lie like a beech]Wow-wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow, wow-wow-wow...Wow, for a amateur you really looked hardBut youre really a *****, when you get it togetherCall me, heres my cardCheck the list: you lack breath control, mental behaviourLyrical talent, imagination and flavourI got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be hurtThinkin youre hard because you wear a gangsta t-shirtIll smash your wanna-be ass in the deep dirtBlack, youll come up dizzy sayin how da ***** he do dat?cause youre yappin like you cant be reachedIf your name aint arrested development, well save your speechTime to ill, I got mad skills to fillNot a fake, I got more styles than drakes got tasty cakesGotta be the best gee, dont try to test meYoull get jacked son, even if your name is not jesseLets be up front when I meet yaPeace, uh, Im the mother*****in teacherOutro~~~~~When we come in all de dance nuff d.j.s shut up, woy!Gal! will ya come slap dem upWhen we come in all de dance nuff d.j.s shut up, woy!Gal! will ya come slap dem up, up, up, up, up...(do it, do it, do it...) x2Yo...south bronx, south south bronxSouth bronx, south south...yo, uptownBrooklyns in the house, lemme tell ya bout staten islandWhat about...queens?
