KRS One

De Automatic

KRS One


featuring Fat Joe 

Some fear de 'matic 
Ah hah hah heh heh heh EHHH 
Check it out 

Some fear de 'matic yes de automatic 
Disrespect from MC's me nah go have it 
De automatic get de automatic 
Tonight a rapper gwan die 

Crazy MC's waste they time chasin millions 
While KRS One holds the minds of the children 
I'm buildin a followin of a hundred and forty four thousand 
Chosen few heads up in project housin 
A true rapper, street rapper, rappin to the center 
I enter any cipher, with tales of adventure 
If rappers are ridin beats like cars, I'm bendin mad fenders 
Put down your mic and surrender 
Youse a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement 
Kickin Edutainment while you wait for your arraignment 
Save it friend before your chest I cave it in 
I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin Harley Davidson 
How do you think I kick a lyrical style no and you figure 
It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga 
Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter 
For starters, I come at you poetically harder 

De automatic, get de automatic 
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it 
De automatic, get de automatic 
Tonight a rapper gwan die 

Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you think you got juice? 
When you rock a pair of panties underneath your bubblegoose 
(Word) KRS-One will fuck up parties dramatically 
My reflex'll slap a wack rapper automatically 
When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the dark 
I was sleepin out in Prospect Park 
Eatin one meal every 48 hours 
Writin dope rhyme styles that you now devour 
Don't you realize, that I'm all about survival 
I got only friends cause I KILLED all my rivals 
Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they titles 
From eighty-six to ninety-six completes my first cycle 

De automatic, get de automatic 
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it 
De automatic, get de automatic 
Tonight a rapper gwan die 

I spent 40 days, and 40 nights in the wilderness 
I'm hard, from head to toe yo there ain't no killin this 
I wrote over 100 rap hooks 
and sociological books, while you worried about your looks 
Now you wanna enter the dragon in sound 
But I've got the live club show locked down 
Platinum and gold don't hold in my arena 
You gots to keep it real on the mic, when they see ya 
I manifest, in the West the East and overseas 
The vision in rap is wack, and I don't know of these 
I represent New York to be specific 
The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted 
I grab a jet and land on your set, what the fuck? 
Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty bucks 
I start from eighty-six, and bring you into ninety-six 
No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics 

De automatic, get de automatic 
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it 
De automatic, get de automatic 
Tonight a rapper gwan die 

[Fat Joe] 
Yeah yeah it's the God Fat Joe 
Representin the motherfuckin South Bronx 
With my nigga Kris, knockin off frauds 
Motherfuckers wanna do what? 
Big shout out to my nigga Kenny Parker 
Ill Will, BDP crew for life nigga 
Naughty Gotto, the Big French productions 
Of course the TAT crew, my nigga Brim 
The T.S. crew, and the whole Godsville 
South Bronx represent nigga, uhh 

The South Bronx, the South South Bronx 
South Bronx, the South South Bronx 
Yeah! Uhh!