De Automatic

[Intro] Some fear de 'matic Ah hah hah, heh heh heh, EHHH Check it out [Chorus] Some fear de 'matic, yes de automatic Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go have it De automatic, get de automatic Tonight a rapper gwan die [Verse 1] Crazy MC's waste they time chasin millions While KRS-One, holds the minds of the children I'm buildin a followin of a hundred and forty-four thousand Chosen few heads up in project housin A true rapper, street rapper, rappin to the center I enter any cipher, with tales of adventure If rappers are ridin beats like cars, I'm bendin mad fenders Put down your mic and surrender You's a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement Kickin Edutainment while you wait for your arraignment Save it friend before your chest I cave it in I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin Harley Davidson How do you think I kick a lyrical style no end, you figure? It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter For starters, I come at you poetically harder [Chorus] [Verse 2] Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you think you got juice? When you rock a pair of panties underneath your bubblegoose (Word) KRS-One will fuck up parties dramatically My reflex'll slap a wack rapper automatically When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the dark I was sleepin out in Prospect Park Eatin one meal every 48 hours Writin dope rhyme styles that you now devour Don't you realize, that I'm all about survival I got only friends cause I KILLED all my rivals Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they titles From eighty-six to ninety-six completes my first cycle [Chorus] [Verse 3] I spent 40 days, and 40 nights in the wilderness I'm hard, from head to toe yo there ain't no killin this I wrote over 100 rap hooks And sociological books, while you worried about your looks Now you wanna enter the dragon in sound But I've got the live club show locked down Platinum and gold don't hold in my arena You gots to keep it real on the mic, when they see ya I manifest, in the West the East and overseas Division in rap is wack, and I don't know of these I represent New York to be specific The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted I grab a jet and land on your set, what the fuck? Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty bucks I start from eighty-six, and bring you into ninety-six No gimmicks, tricks or lip-sync lyrics [Chorus] [Outro: Fat Joe] Yeah yeah it's the God Fat Joe Representin the motherfuckin South Bronx With my nigga Kris, knockin off frauds Motherfuckers wanna do what? Big shout out to my nigga Kenny Parker Ill Will, BDP crew for life nigga Naughty Gotto, the Big French productions Of course the TAT crew, my nigga Brim The T.S. crew, and the whole Godsville South Bronx represent nigga, uhh The South Bronx, the South South Bronx South Bronx, the South South Bronx Yeah! Uhh!