It's meant to be evidently
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When I rock so eloquently
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Put the beat on and let me
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Kill another wack emcee
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Can't trust them, never test me
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I practice and study
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But I'm not in it for the money
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But to me they look so funny
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You can't test the teacher
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The teacher won't reach intact
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Through the speaker you're weaker, now sit your ass in the back
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My lyrical you hear it, you fear it, you can't get near it
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Cause the spirit eat Eric
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And Eric your rhymes is wack
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Like that, that, right back
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Check it out!
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Check it like this
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Just skills You know you gots to build just skills
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*A phone is dialed a man says hello and a woman starts speaking in
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Spanish*
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You know you gots to build just skills, uh come on get down
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Just skills You know we got to build just skills, come on get down
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Yeah, uh come on
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I got that rip track, flip that, underground rap
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When I kick back
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Most of what I'm hearin be weak
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So I speak through beats and the streets as I teach
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I impeach, through speech, each lyric leech I reach
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Have a seat in the lecture
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Nothin can protect you
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Hard is the texture
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Of the mic wreckin rock in your sector
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Better than ever remember I am no beginner
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I like to shout out Eric Skinner
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Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down
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Just skills, you know we gots to build just skills, come on a get down
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Yo, we livin in a world of private jets and limousine
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The fruit we eatin as we prepare tangerine to nectarine
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See everybody livin in the same routine
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We need the telephone, and yes, we need the fax machine
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You listen to the sound, well I think you know it's me
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Now, let me educate you with my concious poetry
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Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
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Me want, me want, me want, me want, me want no wack rap
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Me love, me love, me love, me love, me love it when it's bad
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See if you wack rap you ought be steppin out the back
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See emcees on the microphone forgettin that they black
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See hear them kick the lyrics that are holdin people back
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But when you hear the teacher, KRS will find the track
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You bound to see the light, and you don't want return back
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So listen very closely to the secret scientist
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I'm sending this one out to all my inner city kids
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Now you supposed to be apostle what you have inside your head
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Can make you more reliable, it can make you feel dead
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Now listen very closely to the way I say this rhyme
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It's the thing called the brain, and the thing called the mind
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But I'm outta time
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Chorus (scratching on the word "can"):
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Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
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No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done!
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Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
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Never had a gun, never had a gun?
|
Can I tell them that I really never had a gun?
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No, you can't cause now you bouts to get done!
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Can I tell them that I really never had a gun
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Never had a gun, never had a gun?
|
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On the block you just yap a whole lot
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About the clothes that you got
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Yo, or the gold that you got
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Everybody sees all the friends in your Benz, yo, it's fat
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But they ain't gettin money like that
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Word to my brother Kenny, jealous one envy
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The rich are few, while the poor, many
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But you got gold cuffs and cars and stuff
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You eatin well, but still in the ghetto you dwell
|
You know it's hot, so you make it known about your glock
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To any perpetrator tryin to blow up your spot
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You grab the microphone and talk a good ramble
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You the hardcore outlaw, criminal, vandal
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Burnin emcees like a candle, but you frontin
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You ain't got nothin, with your life you gamble
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One day you gamble up snake eyes
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Talkin all that junk about you don't take dives, you take lives
|
Nobody on the block tries, cause you claim you got powerful ties
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So at the red light you arrive
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And to your surprise you get heffed up with just two steak knives
|
You're terrified, they take your Benz, and what makes things worse
|
You ain't got gun the first
|
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Chorus
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-----------------
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I Got Next/Neva Hadda Gun
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KRS-One |