Somebody

Lyrics

Ya feel dat? (HO!) Ya see dat? (HO!)
 Ya hear dat? (HO!) You believe dat? (HO!)
 Ya follow dat? (HO!) Could it be dat? (HO!)
 Ya follow dat? (HO!) Can you believe dat? (HO!)
 Ya hear dat? (HO!) Ya see dat? (HO!)
 You believe dat? (HO!) You can feel dat (HO!)
 Ya follow dat? (HO!) You believe dat? (HO!)
 Ya see dat? (HO!)
 Show me an MC that think he's too hot
 Bring him to KRS-One, I'll show him he's NOT
 Blowin the whole spot up when I spit up
 Knowledge Reigns Supreme, when I walk past, get up
 My wrists ain't lit up! I don't even live that life
 Gold, diamonds, platinum, I give to my wife - you see
 Diamonds are a girl's best friend, not mine
 You got it, FINE - but what about that rhyme?
 Can you rhyme? Can you spit it quick
 like watermelon pits at a picnic? Ha!
 Or are you just dressed up with nowhere to go?
 Or is the record company the pimp and you the ho?
 LET'S GO!
 w/ variations
 I write my own books like I write my own hooks
 Step in the spot and these rappers be so shook
 They don't look here cause KRS is BOOM!
 Platinum rappers be hidin out in they dressin rooms
 Yo, get away from me
 You got a million dollar video but I'M the one they wanna see
 The capital E-M-C-E-E
 A repitition of words, I been divorced Melodie
 I'm out, confident, no doubt
 I get what I gotta get when I spit I don't shout
 This New Yorker, Kris Parker's a quick talker
 You can get what I spit or get the klik-klocker
 Overseas I got the breeze as a hip-hopper
 Where they speak eat and drop the beats proper
 Street doctor, I'm +Brown+ and +Foxy+ like the +Ill Nana+
 Whoever you think is hot, I'm hotter
 w/ variations
 RADIO! These suckers never play me
 or Chuck - but do you think we really give a...
 Southside, Westside, Eastside, North
 I spit the hot flame, you get your flesh torn off
 I come from that place where you cats can't face
 Where cops can't chase or invade my space
 We turn up the bass, you tremble in the place
 Phones ain't traced and flows we don't waste
 Hoes we don't chase or kiss, they know they place
 with Kris or Christ, they'll lose their life
 You don't lose if you come in two's, you and a wife
 But you crews wanna be bruised, so choose your knife
 Choose your gat, choose your rat, when the smoke clears
 you'll be like, "God damn - who was that?"
 Loosen that noose around your neck and back
 Embarassin blacks, ain't no respect in that!
 w/ variations
 Let's do it! (HO!) (HO!) (HO!) (HO!)
 Everybody up top! (HO!) (HO!) (HO!) (HO!)
 Yo, all my cats in the front! (HO!) (HO!) (HO!) (HO!)
 Yo, yo, all my cats in the back (HO!) (HO!) (HO!) (HO!)
 Yo, we out!

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:53
Key
6
Tempo
87 BPM

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