Hope Beat
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Lyrics
I got a dope beat? (You got a dope beat)
I got a dope beat (We got a dope beat)
I got a dope beat (You got a dope beat)
I got a dope beat (We got a dope beat)
My name is at the top of all of those that makes
Or turn your poetry into cash for '87
Some didn't got paid, some jams were never played
But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade go by
And why? 'Cause they wasn't fly
Others claim to be fresh, but they're not KRS
I cannot walk around the street with my head in the clouds
Either running on my gear or having colors too loud
Everything must coincide with the way I feel
And by the way it's Scott La Rock on the wheels of steel
So I take one step to adjust the mic
I get around the whole city so I do it nice
I like a funky beat, a studio like Unique
I write the crazy fresh lyrics and I don't eat meat
You can look me up and down, and my DJ too
Because we make up the Boogie Down Production crew
Taking out MC's on the one, two, three
No matter who they claim to be in society
Because we know their games, we have pulled their file
If they need a different style we can get wild
He's I.C.U., he's out to kill
I'm KRS and we get ill
D.J. Scott La Rock got his own beat
The extravagant life is what we seek
I will tell you like this, 'cause I know for a fact
I will live a long life and I don't smoke crack
Captivating the crowd seven days a week
You know what they told me to say? I got the dope beat
I got a dope beat (You got a dope beat)
I got a dope beat (We got a dope beat)
I got a dope beat (You got a dope beat)
I got the dope beat (We got the dope beat)
For me to say again another verse of my rhyme
Means what you heard before must have blew up your mind
So now it's time to find poetry like mine
Do not waste all your time because I'm one of a kind
Cooling out and easy-going 'cause the money be flowing
6'4", Brown eyes, and I'm always showing
Stupid MC's on the mic the way it 'posed to be done
They study rhymes all week, but I be rhyming for fun
When they lose they get upset, always pulling a gun
But they must snap out of that, because I'm KRS-One
Not two, not three, but O-N-E
Get it right the first time, I won't repeat this rhyme
If you think that you can burn me with your amateur ways
Keep in mind that I've been out there from back in the days
I don't brag about the people I know
Because they're still bluffing, they're not giving me nothing
I can walk around the city with the rhymes I flaunt
'Cause no matter how you front it's still the ones you want
See, I am funky fresh and poetry is my opinion
Taking out you suckers while the Scott La Rock is spinning
My name is KRS-One, I'm still kinda young
I don't wear Adidas 'cause my name ain't Run
Got Nikes on my feet, and to be complete
I can rock an American or reggae beat
Got rhymes for the seventies, eighties, and nineties
Not being conceited but it won't pay to try me
Out for any feud, any battle, any reason
Making rhymes up every season, this style I'm just teasing
Pick up the pace, homeboy, pick up the pace
You're way behind schedule, listen to what I'm telling you
This particular style may vary
The things I converse about are heard rarely
Some can't bear me, others try to scare me
Sounding intelligent but not yet equivalent
You know what?
You got a dope beat (I got a dope beat)
You got a dope beat (I got a dope beat)
You got a dope beat (I got the dope beat)
You got the dope beat (I got the dope beat)
You got a dope beat (I got the dope beat)
You got a dope beat (DCC got)
The dope beat
I.C.U. is in the house
Miss Melodie is in the house
Lena Love is in the house
D-Nice rocks the house
Goldmist Adam rocks the house
Flavius Walker turns them out
40 Street Black knocks them out
To my mellow Moses Gunn, rock the house
Naughty, bust it out
McBoo turns it out
Chuck Chillout cuts it up
Nev Alert works it out
Scott La Rock, Jr., my pride and joy
KRS-One, his mother's first son
And I know he'll never run
Speedy, Speedy
Scott La Rock, Scott La Rock