"MC's Act Like They Don't Know" lyrics
Clap your hands, everybody
If you got what it takes
'Cause I'm KRS and I'm on the mic
And Premier's on the breaks
Goin' out to the hardcore hip-hop
Goin' out to the hardcore hip-hop (So fuckin' hardcore, yeah)
Of course, we don't flip-flop (Yeah)
If you don't know me by now, allow me to lie down
Relax on the track, can't be sussing the vibe out
Your boy is something special, solo mother raised
Blazing the instrumentals, I could pencil
The future: Isaac Mendez
Would like to get a root from Eva Mendez
I might be acting cute but I could spit ugly as fuck
501 other rappers haven't button [?]
I'm on the up and up, bro, I disagree with those
That try to uppercut hoes even if they talk shit
There's cause and effect, and that's the consequence
Of letting whores in your bed, so just pause for a sec
And think about what I would do if I was in your shoes
Instead of thinking like a dude inhaling raw fumes
I move like assassins, kind of bad
Singer, ha, do it anyway
Fuck it, pole position, I [?] so well
In your position like chilling on a bed of nails
It's not comfortable, dawgs, you walk around [?]
Cliff Huxtable, dawg, that's how fucked up you are
I'm a point-the-finger type of dude, kinda rude
Off a blunt, cunt, catch me in the right type of mood, I
Call a spade a spade, don't say, "Ayy, baby"
Hate the KKK, want the [?] yeah
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
If you don't know me by now, I doubt you'll ever know me
I never won a Grammy, I won't win a Tony
But I'm not the only MC keepin' it real
When I grab the mic to smash a rapper, girls go, "Ill"
Check the time as I rhyme, it's 1995
Whenever I arrive, the party gets liver
Flow with the master rhymer, as I leave behind
The video rapper, you know, the chart climber
Clapper – down goes another rapper
Onto another matter, punch up the data, Blastmaster
Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody
Call up KRS, I'm guaranteed to rip a party
Flat top, braids, bald heads, or knotty dreads
There once was a story 'bout a man named Jed
But now Jed is dead, all his kids instead
Wanna kick rhymes off the top of they head
Word, what go around come around, I figure
Now we got white kids callin' themselves niggas
The tables turned as the crosses burned
Remember "You Must Learn"
About the styles I flip, and how wild I get
I go on like a space-age rocket ship
You could be a mack, a pimp, hustler, or player
But make sure live, you is a dope rhyme sayer
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
David Dallas
If you got what it takes
'Cause I'm KRS and I'm on the mic
And Premier's on the breaks
Goin' out to the hardcore hip-hop
Goin' out to the hardcore hip-hop (So fuckin' hardcore, yeah)
Of course, we don't flip-flop (Yeah)
If you don't know me by now, allow me to lie down
Relax on the track, can't be sussing the vibe out
Your boy is something special, solo mother raised
Blazing the instrumentals, I could pencil
The future: Isaac Mendez
Would like to get a root from Eva Mendez
I might be acting cute but I could spit ugly as fuck
501 other rappers haven't button [?]
I'm on the up and up, bro, I disagree with those
That try to uppercut hoes even if they talk shit
There's cause and effect, and that's the consequence
Of letting whores in your bed, so just pause for a sec
And think about what I would do if I was in your shoes
Instead of thinking like a dude inhaling raw fumes
I move like assassins, kind of bad
Singer, ha, do it anyway
Fuck it, pole position, I [?] so well
In your position like chilling on a bed of nails
It's not comfortable, dawgs, you walk around [?]
Cliff Huxtable, dawg, that's how fucked up you are
I'm a point-the-finger type of dude, kinda rude
Off a blunt, cunt, catch me in the right type of mood, I
Call a spade a spade, don't say, "Ayy, baby"
Hate the KKK, want the [?] yeah
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
If you don't know me by now, I doubt you'll ever know me
I never won a Grammy, I won't win a Tony
But I'm not the only MC keepin' it real
When I grab the mic to smash a rapper, girls go, "Ill"
Check the time as I rhyme, it's 1995
Whenever I arrive, the party gets liver
Flow with the master rhymer, as I leave behind
The video rapper, you know, the chart climber
Clapper – down goes another rapper
Onto another matter, punch up the data, Blastmaster
Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody
Call up KRS, I'm guaranteed to rip a party
Flat top, braids, bald heads, or knotty dreads
There once was a story 'bout a man named Jed
But now Jed is dead, all his kids instead
Wanna kick rhymes off the top of they head
Word, what go around come around, I figure
Now we got white kids callin' themselves niggas
The tables turned as the crosses burned
Remember "You Must Learn"
About the styles I flip, and how wild I get
I go on like a space-age rocket ship
You could be a mack, a pimp, hustler, or player
But make sure live, you is a dope rhyme sayer
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
MCs act like they don't know
David Dallas
