Boogie Down Productions - My Philosophy (1988 ) | Текст песни

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• Boogie Down Productions
• My Philosophy (1988 )

Voice: so, you're a philosopher?
Krs: yes, I think very deeply.
[repeated and scratched]

[verse one]
Let's begin, what, where, why, or when
Will all be explained like instructions to a game
See I'm not insane, in fact, I'm kind of rational
When I be asking you, "who is more dramatical? "
This one or that one, the white one or the black one
Pick the punk, and I'll jump up to attack one
Krs-one is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face and dis you
Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holding a pistol something far from a lover
Beside my brother, s-c-o-t-t
I just laughed, cause no one can defeat me
This is lecture number two, "my philosophy"
Number one, was "poetry" you know it's me
This is my philosophy, many artists got to learn
I'm not flammable, I don't burn
So please stop burnin, and learn to earn respect
'cause that's just what kr collects
See, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
You got to have style, and learn to be original
And everybody's gonna wanna diss you
Like me, we stood up for the south bronx
And every sucka mc had a response
You think we care? I know that they are on the tip
My posse from the bronx is thick
And we're real live, we walk correctly
A lot of suckas would like to forget me
But they can't, cause like a champ
I have got a record of knocking out the frauds in a second
On the mic, I believe that you should get loose
I haven't come to tell you I have juice
I just produce, create, innovate on a higher level
I'll be back, but for now just seckle!

[verse two]
I'll play the nine and you play the target
You all know my name so I guess I'll just start it
Or should I say, "start this," I am an artist
Of new concepts at their hardest
Cause, yo, I'm a teacher and scott is a scholar
It ain't about money cause we all make dollars
That's whyi walk with my head up
When I hear wack rhymes I get fed up
Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games
A lot of suckas with colorful names
I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that
Huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack
I'm not white or red or black
I'm brown.. from the boogie down
Productions, of course our music be thumpin'
Others say their bad, but they're buggin
Let me tell you somethin' now about hip hop
About d-nice, melodie, and scott la rock
I'll get a pen, a pencil, a marker
Mainly what I write is for the average new yorker
Some mc's be talkin' and talkin'
Tryin' to show how black people are walkin
But I don't walk this way to portray
Or reinforce stereotypes of today
Like all my brothas eat chicken and watermelon
Talk broken english and drug sellin'
See I'm tellin, and teaching real facts
The way some act in rap is kind of wack
And it lacks creativity and intelligence
But they don't care cause the company is sellin' it
It's my philosophy, on the industry
Don't bother dissin me, or even wish that we'd
Soften, dilute, or commercialize all our lyrics
Cause it's about time one of y'all hear it
And hear it first-hand from the intelligent brown man
A vegetarian, no goat or ham
Or chicken or turkey or hamburger
'cause to me that's suicide self-murder
Let us get back to what we call hip hop
And what it meant to dj scott la rock...

[verse three]
How many mc's must get dissed
Before somebody says, "don't f*** with kris!"
This is just one style, out of many
Like a piggy bank, this is one penny
My brother's name is kenny - that's, kenny

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