Rappaz R. N. Dainja

Blastmaster Kris, I don't talk ish. Expand your consciousness and dismiss foolishness. No one is new to this or new to Kris. In hip-hop's atomic structure I am the nucleus. That is the center of the group we, us. They, them, you, every squad, every massive, every crew. Dental floss is lost when a true rapper jumps off. The cash is incidental, but not mental distract you off course. The style that I am kickin' is like chicken. It will be bitten, rewritten, then performed for a twenty-five dollar admission; Reviewed in The Source. You will listen, then find somethin' missin' of course... it's skills; That's what you're fishin' for, it's lost. I'm gettin' too explicit; the track jingles. I won't do a wack album, then remix it for my single. Kickin' rhymes till I wrinkle, and my brown eyes twinkle. God called hip-hop for the nine-cinco. Tasty like a soufflé french croisant on Tuesday. Rappers be boo-tay. Goo-fy, that's how they crew stay; Bitin' whatever you say to boost they ego. We know the steelo; your whole character is foul. Makes me want to shoot a free throw; blaow! From the git go, no, get go, my flow hits low. Wherever all the dope shit go; there's where my shit go. Bee-dee-bee-bo, skank, I think; Self with ya groups, everyone else, and the bank. Others like to bring the shottie to the party; I bring knowledge of self; you cure the mind; you cure the body. Some rappers like to come to the party hopin' to leave with somebody. Check, I come with skills, and I leave with your motherfuckin' respect. Ahh yeah... so check, uh! New types of verbal hip-hop I bring. When you know you can sing, boy, you know you can sing. I do not clutter up the airwaves with stacks of useless facts. MC's trying to be macks, but acts like ignorant blacks; Freak that, I'll snap your back as it cracks. You will experience loss or lack of balance. Stop the violence; fry from week to week like an allowance. All of you are cowards; hiding behind the mask of MC. I remember, thinkin' back to eighty-three; No video; no you had to be a real, live, MC. Now you younguns grow up buggin' any new jock you're huggin' Weak production; let me tell you somethin'. Any MC can battle for glory, But to kick a dope rhyme to wake up your people's another story. Act like you never saw me, 'Cause when it comes to lyrics I'm in a different category. --- Rappaz R. N. Dainja - KRS-One