The Style You Haven't Done Yet

KRS-One.

Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye

Widdy-bye-bye bye-bye bye-bye bye

Come in!

Many have claimed to attain levels in rhymin'

But when I listen to 'em I see they're only lyin'

They're tryin', but after some years if you ain't got it

Lay it down, put it down, find a way to try and stop it

Or change it, rearrange it, be a producer

Don't touch the microphone because you'll always be the loser

And laughed at, smirked on, you don't belong

With those that perform their song on and on

And on and on and on, yo, let's get specific

This style is for the gifted, poetically uplifted

I speak to you, not at you to attack you

Maybe when I'm through with this rhyme I'll get a statue

So now I ax you or tell you people literally

When it comes to rockin' funky lyrics few are better than me

Down with BDP, endlessly recitin' poetry

Any time I'm in the street, you hear my voice, you know it's me

KR... nope! I'm not ready to say my name yet

Many say they teach, but this style they haven't attained yet

Widdy-bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!

Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!

Bye bye bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye, widdy bye-bye!

Bye-bye bye-bye bye, widdy-bye-bye bye bye

Run it, son, plumb it you bum

Don't you know that it's KRS-One

That comes to sing the styles that ain't sung

I rocked the party, but oh! Gotta run

Cos only the suckers want a chance at that

To see if KRS-One is really all that

Instead of a rap I jap-slap all of 'em back

Because the teacher that you see is not wack

I'd like to stack up all the hits that I've made

Three albums, a triple-layer cake

And throw it in your face you waste

Pick up the pace and taste a poet from the black race

While I whip you whine, you're out of touch

I'm out of time, here's another rhyme

(The black man's in effect. Jeeeeeeesus! Oh gosh, dude. Oh gosh. Oh

yes, dude. Yes)

(What's the name of that crew? B.D.P)

(Say what? I'm not down with the Juice Crew)