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Lyrics for Mortal Thought I Must Roc the Mic by KRS One:
| | | Artist: | KRS One |
| | Album: | Return of the Boom Bap | | Track: | Mortal Thought I Must Roc the Mic | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 84 | | | | Lyrics: | Adjust that treble right now adjust the bass
Turn it up stop frontin
C'mon turn it
up
Alright check it out ninety three lyrics here we go
Bo!
I never
want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly black
I
never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must roc the mic
I play only the
reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African the European, and Jap
Beneath I got
to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the mic
Are you tired of
lyrical liars, passing fliers
Wannabe MC's, but really good triers
Tripping over mic
cords, getting you bored
A total fraud, this kind of thing I can't afford, so I
pick
up the mic and kill it ill it top bill it
The cough is a skillet, where MC's get fried in it
You got beef chill it, blood I spill it
After seven long years of ripping the party
and I'm still widdit
You call my name I don't think about suing ya
I come to the
club with that BOOYAKA
Laughing while I'm doin ya the crowd is booin ya
Gimme one
month, record for record on tape I'll ruin ya
Some likkle awl pon sound bwoy wan fi rule de
city
His style is lookin pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibby
Here comes the
rootical ratical teacha
I'll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya teeth chatter
You'll be goin through convulsions as I flash data
Any rapper can be a decapitated
rapper now what's the matter
You're full of more junk than a sausage
Let me show you
what a real hip-hop artist
*DJ Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the Bronx
is thick!"*
I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my bed
has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must,
roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the
European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the
mic
Of course yeah I'm the most brilliant recording artist in your life
Never have to repeat a rhyme style twice, precise
In a lyrical drought like water to your
lips oh yes my lyrics will suffice
I'm nice, like beans and rice, I am delicious
Who's the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don't want to fuck with Kris is
Lyric for lyric
rhyme for rhyme style for style I break you like dishes
Either you come fully correct or the
lyrics you simply makin wishes
We got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin
wishes
youse a fraud, I mean a fraud like in fraudulation
I know what it is, the
crown of rhyme supremacy you're tastin
And yes, before the flavor hits your greedy tongue
You get ripped up by KRS-One
Now, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, from the lyrical
terrorist
Here's a little somethin for you all to remember Kris, and remember this
I
am no pessimist, more of an optimist
Activist revolutionist, yes the hardest artist
And the smartest, Premier, spark this
*Premier cuts and scratches "My posse from the
Bronx is thick!"*
I never want a jheri curl up under my hat
The woman in my
bed has got to be strictly black
I never want money if my lyrics are wack
So I must,
roc, the mic
I play only the reggae and I play only rap
I rock the African, the
European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you that I am all that
So I must, roc, the
mic | | | |  Reddit | X / Twitter | Facebook | Copy link |
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