[reply to BDP's 'South Bronx']
(Warning)
(Warning) (Warning) (Warning)
(Warning)
(Devastating to your ear)
Rhyming is a thing that I do at will
Be glad to rock a party just to prove my skill
J-u-ice is what I'm gaining
With a style so fresh that it's self-explaining
Never bite a rhyme, I don't live that way
But when I get dissed, violators pay
I'm a crowd motivator, MC annihilator
Never front the move cause I'm not a perpetrator
I don't really mind bein criticized
But those who try to make fame on my name - die
Rhymes of all styles, all categories
From fresh freestyles to real fly stories
This jam is dedicated to you and your boys
And if you knew what I knew, then you'd kill that noise
(Devastating to your ear)
I devastate the crowd while the record spins
So call, competators have no wins
I laugh at MC's who call me wack
You ordered, and now I'm gonna serve you, Jack
We're respected by all, treated just like kings
How could you have the nerve to say such things?
If you knew at the time what you were saying
You wouldn't be on your knees - praying
You gotta understand I'm not the average MC
At the first sign of trouble grab the mic and flee
Grab the mic, plug in the beat box jacks
Prepare for the battle, then proceed to wax
Takes much time I feel is ample
To deafen an MC, to make an example
This goes for all sucker MC chumps
Who hear my name, and suddenly Kool-Aid pumps
So if you're thinkin 'bout dissin me, better think twice
Cause next time, brother, I won't be so nice
You can come all alone or bring all your boys
But if you knew what I knew, then you'd kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
(South Bronx)
Kill that, kill that noise
I must say MC's got a lot of spunk
To get up on stage and pop so much junk
I'm not worried cause I don't get waxed
And you wouldn't believe how hard I max
School's in session, I'm about to teach
Versatile with a style that you just can't reach
Lesson number one: first strike aim
You shouldn't do things to degrade my name
Your records won't sell cause the people won't buy em
A sucker MC's like chicken - I fry him
I started with a smash, I'ma leave with a bang
And to put it to you bluntly - MC's can't hang
Your boys and your family will be grieving your death
Weeping while they're sweeping up the pieces I left
You can come all alone or bring all your boys
But if you knew what I knew, then you'd kill that noise
[Marley Marl]
Yo Shan
I didn't hear you say hip hop started in the Bridge on your record?
[MC Shan]
I didn't
They wanted to get on the bandwagon
Because I.. rhyme so fly, girls can't resist
But her man can't understand, so he gets pissed
Like a preacher at ??? when she hurt I'll heal her
I'll leap, you sleep, and believe I steal her
My mama used to say: "Be a ladies man"
I used to always wonder why she named me Shan
Not hard to pronounce, easy to spell
And oh how I love it when the ladies yell
Her man better chill when my jacket's unzipped
I got a .25 with an 8 shot clip
You're sayin to yourself: 'that's a b.b. gun'
But the place that I'ma shoot ya it'll take just one
I'll blow you into parts, little pieces and specks
You'll be saying to yourself: 'what can happen next?'
This jam is dedicated to you and your boys
But if you knew what I knew, then you'd kill that noise
(Hey, listen to the man)
Shoulda stayed in school, learned comprehension
Tryin to state facts that I did not mention
Sucker MC's I hate the most
Next time I make a record you should listen close
Cause MC's like me are the real McCoys
So you sucker MC's better kill that noise
(Baby)
...tryin to diss us, man
What's wrong with that...
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
KRS-One and Scott La Rock
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Yo, he talk about 'strung' on somethin
Man, we cold coolin in the place
Drivin fresh Audis and coupes
What's wrong with y'all
Strung?
The only thing we strung on is music
And you're strung on ours