Clap your hands everybody  if you got what it takes
 Cos I'm KRS and I'm on the mic  and Premier's on The Breaks

 Verse 1

 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 "Illlll!"
 Check the time as I rhyme  it's 1995
 Whenever I arrive the party gets liver
 Flow with the master rhymer, that's to 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 natty dread
 There once was a story about a man named Jed
 But now Jed is dead, all his kids instead
 Want to 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

 Verse 2

 This is what you waited all year for
 The hardcore, that's what KRS is here for
 Big up Grand Wizard Theodore, gettin' ill
 If you see then ya saw I'm in your grill with mad skill
 MC's can only battle with rhymes that got punchlines
 Let's battle to see who headlines
 Instead of flow for flow let's go show for show
 Toe for toe, yo, you better act like you know
 Too many MC's take that word 'emcee' lightly
 They can't Move a Crowd, not even slightly
 It might be the fact that they express wackness
 Let me show ya whose ass is the blackest
 I flip a script a little bit, you ride the tip and shit
 Too sick to get with it, admit you bit, your style is counterfeit
 Now tone it down a bit
 My title you will never get, I'm too intelligent
 I'll send your family my sentiments, my style is toxic
 When I rock and shock and hip hop it unlock your head, I knock it
 It split quick from the lyric
 Direct hit, perfect fit, you can't get with it

 Verse 3

 Some MC's don't like the KRS but they must respect him
 Cos they know this kid gets all up in they rectum
 Slappin' and selectin' em, checkin' em, disrespectin' em
 Just deckin' em, deckin' em, deck-in' em
 Who in their right mind can mimic a style like mine?
 I design rhyme and get mine all the time
 MC's standin' on the sidelines, always dissin'
 When I roll up and rush their crew they start bitchin'
 I don't burn, I don't freeze, yet some MC's
 Believe they could tangle with the likes of these
 Cross your t's and dot your i's whenever I arrive
 Wide, magnified, live like the ocean tide
 You dope, you lied, I reside like artefacts
 On the wrong side of the tracks, electrified
 Comin' around the mountain, you run and hide
 Hopin' your defence mechanism can divert my heat-seeking lyricism
 As I spark mad iszm
 The 1996 lyrical style's what I give 'em