Yeah, my next piece goes out to you internet bitches Hiding behind texts and shit First of all, y'all don't really grab mics man You be in the studio with the mic in the mic stand On your knees you supposed to fall I'm just superior clearly, I'm over y'all When you stall, really, you call in dad Talk hefty, I'm a put you in a garbage bag All them theatrics be wack shit for sure You the reason people don't like rap no more You ain't fresh guy, I bought your CD Listened to it and took that wack shit back to Best Buy You'll need "TLC" like Left-Eye I'll smash him, him, you and your next guy You'll be like "KRS why?" When I come to your day job and hang you from your neck tie Your whole shit's fake, your manager hyped you Y'all like two bitches, kiss like dykes do Yeah, how would ya like it if I rocked just a little bit? Oh, how would ya like it if I ripped just a little bit? If I spit just a little bit? Rip mics just a little bit? Light blunts just a little bit? Tote guns just a little bit? My name reigns supreme in every rap index I'll spray your brains on the windowpane like Windex You wearing fishnets, peep it We not the same, I'm jeans and scully, you Victoria's Secret You not on that street shit, you ain't getting skrilla You rapping cause you a wack drug dealer So what's it gonna be? Rapping or dealing? You can't serve two gods, I'm capping and peeling What happened? You kneeling, your legs got no feeling Cause when the gun went under your chin, your brain hit the ceiling We invented this shit, to them cops you be squealing Your whole Marvin is Gay, you need Sexual Healing Them cars I be wheeling, you dudes into stealing From the weak, I'll leave you in the passenger seat I'll teach a class in a week, bust yo ass in the street We get more intelligent after I speak Yeah, how would ya like it if I rocked just a little bit? Oh, how would ya like it if I ripped just a little bit? Yo, the Teacha KRS, I got Hip Hop on me Before Hip Hop, a lotta y'all dudes was corny You thug? I don't really see it B I remember when all y'all was dressing like Run-D.M.C. But actually it was your parents, they were fans You a fan, it's apparent, you're all transparent See-through, I would never be you You rap but really, really nobody believes you They just like the beats you do In a real club I'm eating you, Glock greeting you Peekaboo, I'm that Teacha who Made an appointment for his bullets to meet with you Are you available? They'll come around two-thirty I'm with the clean-up crew, aren't you dirty? You heard me, man I take your heart When the show start, I show art like Mozart I take you back to [?], these rappers got no heart They not shell shocked, they show shocked, huh I rock spots with no cop All in your face like Botox, you like your old pops You ain't running no blocks Y'all dudes is corny, chasing ice and cream like Mistee Softee Get off me, your shit is wack man, you lost me Yeah, how would ya like it if I rocked just a little bit? Oh, how would ya like it if I ripped just a little bit? If I spit just a little bit? Rip mics just a little bit? Light blunts just a little bit? Tote guns just a little bit?